


Until It Hurts

by SpaceCommander, TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: A/B/O - Heat or Rut in an Unexpected or Inconvenient Place, A/B/O - Secret Omega Goes Into Heat, Accidental Kink Discovery, Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha!Logan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bonding, Brotherhood of Mutants, But more like fuck or kill, Dirty Talk, Everybody hates the sex talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Feral Behavior, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Fuck that virginity is a social construct, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I just want Rogue to have friends, Identity Issues, It's A/B/O of course it's dubious consent, Jean Grey didn't ask for this, Knotting, Language, Loss of Virginity, Made up biology bullshit, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Memory Absorbtion, Mildly Dubious Consent, Older Man/Younger Woman, Omega!Rogue, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Play, Praise Kink, Secondary Genders, Semi-Public Sex, Sexually violent language, Slut Shaming, Strangers to Lovers, Surprise bond, Vaginal Sex, Women suporting women are my jam, X-men (2000) - Freeform, accidental heat, love saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 22,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCommander/pseuds/SpaceCommander, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG/pseuds/TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG
Summary: She’s diligent about taking her pills and spritzing herself with the fake Beta scent, and Logan suspects nothing.





	1. Laughlin City

**Author's Note:**

> Someone dared me to write this, so I did because I have no self control. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I have no idea what the Venn diagram of Rogan shippers and people who are into A/B/O would look like but too bad. I like to think there's some overlap. Enjoy?
> 
> Also, many thanks to SpaceCommander for betaing this and just generally encouraging my madness. <3

Laughlin City is not deserving of the name, Marie realises as she trudges through the snow in the parking lot, her bag slung over one shoulder. It’s just a couple of rundown buildings squatting by the side of the road, the centre a bar that most vehicles are crowded around like moths to a flame, and she’ll have to find a new ride. Not that she has any idea where that ride would take her.

The smell of the place is atrocious, packed with bodies as it is, stale sweat and beer and hormones creating a pungent mixture that makes her head spin. She follows the cheering and the yelling, her curiosity winning out over her anxiety at being so close to other people.

There’s a cage in the centre of the room, the place where every single person directs their attention, and when she catches a glimpse of the fight through the crowd, she understands why. The bell _ding_ s and a body is dragged out of the ring, the master of ceremonies – if one wants to use such a high class phrase for the man with the greasy hat and the three day stubble – doing his best to fuel the rage of the crowd, and when he points at the winner, her gaze follows and then her breath catches in her throat.

The man leaning against the side of the cage is obviously an Alpha, and the longer she looks at him, the more her insides turn to jelly, and she feels herself clench with, simply put, _want_ , and when the woman next to her sniffs the air and looks around in confusion, Marie hurries away, her cheeks burning. 

She finds a quiet corner and watches. A big bald guy is the next challenger, one of those Alphas who may as well have ‘dumb ass’ tattooed on his forehead. The other guy knocks back a glass of whiskey and balances his cigar on top of it, obviously expecting to come back to it later, and then dumb ass is on him, kicks him in the back. Marie winces as he goes down with the punches that follow, as he takes the kick to his stomach.

And then she blinks and it’s over, with a punch and a headbutt that drops the dumb ass like a sack of potatoes, and the ring master announces the winner: the Wolverine.

Marie thinks, _Something’s going on here_ , as he picks his cigar up again, ignoring the cries of anger all around him.

Later, after the confrontation with the sore loser, with the revelation of what that something is, she grabs her bag and hurries outside after the Wolverine, pulling back the tarpaulin on his dolly and sliding underneath it, and she thinks that this is either her best or worst idea to date.

When the mobile home rolls to a stop and the man pokes her through the tarpaulin, she is convinced that he’ll leave her standing there in the middle of nowhere. But he doesn’t.

She slides into the seat next to him, more grateful than she can put into words, though she almost regrets her decision when she takes a breath and is enveloped by the scent of _Alpha_ clinging to every item in the vehicle, made worse when he turns up the heat.

Logan, he tells her his name is, after she’s asked about his dog tags, and she drops her stupid nickname. He smiles slightly when she tells him her real one, and she hopes she didn’t make a mistake in going with him.

Her other secrets, her secondary gender, her mutation – those she keeps to herself.

They drive until midday, when they take a break and stretch their legs a bit before hitting the road again, and finally around 9 pm, she can’t keep her eyes open any longer, slumping against the window.

“Hey.” He shakes her awake gently after only a moment, his hand on her arm incredibly warm. “That’s gonna be hell on your neck.” He points to the back, at the bed there – the only bed – and Logan notices how she stiffens. “You go take the bed. I’ll drive through the night anyway.” She suspects that normally, he wouldn’t do that, and she feels insanely grateful.

The urge to plump up the few pillows and blankets, to form a little nest, is strong as she settles on the bed but she resists, instead curling into a little ball as she pulls the blanket up to her chin. She tries very hard to ignore the way his scent settles on her skin, seeps into her clothes.

It should not feel this good.

They settle into a routine surprisingly quickly. Logan drives, Marie sleeps, and during the day they find camp grounds or even just a dirt road where they stop so Logan can rest. She busies herself by tidying the small space, folds his clothes and picks up the trash littering the floor, and she doesn’t think about how very Omegan a thing it is she’s doing.

She’s diligent about taking her pills and spritzing herself with the fake Beta scent, and Logan suspects nothing.


	2. Omega

Three days out of Laughlin City, she realises with horror that she does not, in fact, have a second bottle of suppressants as she’d thought. She feels panic creeping in as she tips the contents of her bag out on the table in the trailer, digging through them and coming up with nothing. She must have lost it somewhere. The string of curses coming from her mouth would’ve made her momma blush to her roots and then faint dead away.

Logan looks over from the coffee maker, one eyebrow cocked. “Something wrong?”

“How far is it to the nearest clinic?”

He gives her a look as he thinks. “Two days, I guess. Why?”

She groans, then tosses the empty bottle in his direction. He catches it deftly and brings it up to read the label, and his eyes go wide. “Because then we have a problem.”

He stares at her, something in his eyes that she has seen before when Alphas learned what she was. A sudden hunger, but he reins it in almost immediately. “You’re a fucking Omega?” She nods, apprehensive, and he looks back down at the bottle, then at her again. “Are you crazy? Why the fuck didn’t you look for a Beta to take you?”

There’s a whimper clawing its way up her throat, one of those classic Omega reflexes for soothing an agitated Alpha, and she swallows heavily, clamping down on the impulse. “There was no one who looked trustworthy.”

“Jesus Christ.” Logan slams the bottle down on the table in front of her, and she can’t tell if he’s angry at her or at himself for agreeing to let her come along. “And you thought, hey, that _Alpha mutant_ looks like my safest bet out here?”

She looks back at him, unflinchingly. “Yes.” She wriggles her gloved fingers in his direction. “You think I wear these all the time, _even when I sleep_ , because I’m making a fashion statement?”

Comprehension dawns in his eyes, and he sits across from her heavily. “You’re a mutant.”

Marie picks at a loose thread on her jacket, gives a half-shrug. “Duh.”

“What…”

She cuts him off. “I absorb energy. Thoughts. Memories.” Looks at his hands from beneath her lashes. “Powers.” His fingers twitch at that, and she pulls her own hands into her lap. “If I hold on too long… I kill people.” Her voice drops to a whisper at that, and when she looks up at him again, there’s that look in his eyes. Pity, and it cuts like a knife. She stands abruptly and grabs her coat. “I need some air.”

Marie half expects him to follow her, but he lets her go, and she stalks down the steps, the snow in the parking lot coming up to mid-calf. She pulls her coat closed around her and takes a deep breath as she counts down from 100. It’s quiet, no people, only the sounds of the wind in the trees, the cry of a bird. Peaceful.

There’s a steaming mug of coffee waiting for her when she returns, a peace offering, and she pulls off her gloves and curls her fingers around it. Logan is in the driver’s seat, studying a map. “We could make it in one day, if I floor it.” He doesn’t look at her, looks at the road before them instead. “It’s your choice, kid.”

She stares at the back of his head for a moment. _Her choice_. “It’s not like there’s an alternative, is there?”

He turns then, looks at her over his shoulder, and the dark glint in his eyes makes her insides liquefy. “As I said. Your choice.”

For a split second, she lets herself imagine what it would be like. What he’d feel like, buried inside her, imagines him calling her _sweet Omega_ as he fucks her, and she clamps her thighs together. His nose twitches, and Marie has to take a calming breath. Has to remind herself of her reality. “Logan, I don’t think you understand.” She pulls on her gloves again, a mixture of anxiety, annoyance and plain old arousal coursing through her. “I can’t… I can’t have sex. I would kill you.”

He has the audacity to shrug. “I’m hard to kill.”

She wonders idly if it’s the Alpha part of him that makes him be so dismissive of the danger, or the mutant part. _He does heal quickly_ , a treacherous part of her brain reminds her, and she bites her lip.

In the end, she makes him drive, tells him she’d rather take her chances.

Of course it’s the wrong decision.


	3. Alpha

They’ve been on the road eight hours when she breaks out in a sudden sweat, even though the cabin of the mobile is not all that warm, and before she can stop herself, she whimpers.

Logan looks over at her, inhales, and then he steps on the gas, a death grip on the steering wheel. “Get in the back,” he growls, and Marie scrambles to obey. When she’s curled up in the corner of the bed, as far away from him as she can go, his grip loosens slightly. “How many doses did you miss?”

“Two.” She shivers and pulls all the blankets around herself, but of course his scent is everywhere, and she can practically feel her body going into overdrive. “It needs to be reduced slowly, if I wanted to stop taking it. This way, I’ll… I’m going into heat.” He’s looking at her in the rear view mirror instead of at the road, and she bites her tongue, hard, to keep in another whimper. “We have to stop. I need to...”

“What? Get away from me?” There’s an edge to his voice that makes her want to hide, to present her neck to him, to run. Her mind is becoming muddled as her heat hits her like a sledgehammer, and she doesn’t know _what_ she needs. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, kid. This can go two ways – either we keep going and get you your pills, or we stop. And there’s no way I’m leaving you alone out here.”

She knows what he’s saying. If they stop, he’s going to… “Logan, I _can’t_!” It comes out as a whine, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and she has never felt more pathetic.

He gives her another hard look through the mirror, and then the vehicle lurches forward as he floors it. “Lock yourself in the bathroom.” His voice is strained, and he directs his eyes forward, finally.

Marie doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to leave the bed, but she can see his reasoning. The bathroom is tiny, but it has a door, and it’ll keep her scent at bay at least a little. And so she makes herself move, taking the blankets with her. Inside, she kicks off her shoes and curls up on the floor of the shower, burrows into the little nest she’s made out of the blankets, and wishes they could go just a little faster.

She loses track of time. Alternating between too cold and too hot, she’s unaware of anything beyond the confines of the mobile, and why should she when there’s an Alpha just outside the door? An Alpha who smells like the forest and warm earth, who has been nice to her and who can help her, and she doesn’t understand why she’s _in here_ and he’s _out there_ , so she gets to her feet, feeling shaky and coltish, as if her legs can’t carry her. She turns the doorknob but it doesn’t move, why won’t it move, she just needs to turn it and then she can…

“Marie, _stop that_.” The command in his voice forces her to obey, though she whimpers and presses herself against the door. “It’s not far now, sweetheart. You be a good girl and we’ll get you help real soon.”

She preens at being called a good girl, yes, _such_ a good girl, if only she could show him. “ _You_ can help me, Logan.”

There’s a growl that makes the hair at the back of her neck stand up, and a gush of wetness in her pants that would kill her with embarrassment at any other time. The car takes a left turn, rather sharply, and she falls to her knees with a yelp.

“You sit down and be quiet, you hear? Just a little longer.”

She wants to protest again, wants to tell him that she doesn’t want to _wait_ , to be _quiet_ , no, quite the opposite, and she reaches for the doorknob again. That’s when the mobile stops abruptly, momentum reduced from 80 mph to standing still, and she smashes into the wall. Everything goes black.

When she comes to, she smells fire. Heat addled as her brain may be, it realises the danger, and she manages to unlock the door on her second attempt. She has to force it open with her shoulder, but she manages that as well. The cabin of the mobile is empty, Logan nowhere in sight, and it takes her a moment to see the shattered wind shield, to understand what it means.

She’s out the door and running down the street in a flash, the thought of _Alpha Logan Alpha Alpha **Alpha**_ propelling her forward, even though her feet are bare and there’s a good layer of snow. He’s lying in the middle of the road, about 40 yards from the mobile, and he’s not moving, and Marie starts to panic. Her eyes flicker back to the mobile, and only now does she see why they’ve stopped, sees the tree that’s fallen across the road.

Marie blinks, and all of a sudden he’s there, a man, no, an Alpha, tall and thick with muscle, and she watches, frozen in terror, as he inhales deeply, and then he smirks at her.

She grabs Logan’s shoulder and shakes him, terrified, tears streaming down her face. “Logan, wake up, please, please _wake up_ ,” but he doesn’t and when the man gives a low whistle and starts in her direction, she screams and bolts.

The snow isn’t as deep between the trees but she’s still barefoot and most importantly terrified and half blind with tears, and she can hear him crashing through the undergrowth behind her. She speeds up, forces herself forward, but then the ground is gone beneath her, and for a second she’s falling, before thick arms close around her waist and she’s pulled against the man’s chest. There’s a cliff right in front of her, she realises, a drop of probably a hundred feet, and she reflexively holds onto the arm slung around her.

The man chuckles and pulls her even closer, and she can feel his cock, hard against her ass, and she struggles. “Let me go!”

He laughs and leans down. “Nobody told me you were an Omega, pretty girl.” His breath is hot against her cheek, and she shudders in revulsion.

A sound to her left, like a sword being drawn, and when she looks over, there’s Logan, and she feels like she could cry with relief. His claws are out, and even though there is blood running down the side of his face, she can’t see any injuries. He looks positively murderous, his lips drawn back in a snarl as he widens his stance slightly. “You heard the lady. Let her go.”

The man laughs darkly and instead slides one of his hands up her body, cupping a breast. “I don’t think so, runt. Finders keepers.”

Logan _roars_ and flings himself forward, but the man sidesteps him, keeps Marie between them. She’s sobbing now, more scared than ever before, but for a second, she is lucid enough to tug off one glove, and when she grabs his arm, the man howls and loses his grip on her. She stumbles as he drops her, but she loses no time running to Logan, hiding behind him.

The Omega part of her brain purrs in pleasure at these two strong Alphas fighting over her. Marie _hates_ it. She hates him, hates that he’s in her head now. His thoughts are _so loud_ , threatening to drown out her own, and she whimpers, clutching her head. She can see what he planned to do to her, and she turns away from the men just as Logan lunges towards the other – Victor, her mind helpfully supplies – and buries his claws in him, and Marie falls to her knees and retches.

There’s a roaring in her ears, the wind picking up, and when she looks, she sees a plane through the trees, sleek and black and unlike any plane she’s seen before, and a woman with white hair _flying_ beside it, and she’s certain she’s lost her mind, but Logan turns towards the noise as well.

Victor sees his chance, with Logan distracted, and he punches him, getting Logan to step back. Marie watches in horrified fascination as the flesh where just seconds ago gaping wounds had been knits itself back together, and then he is up and running, and it’s only Marie’s distressed whine that stops Logan from going after him. Instead he’s by her side in a heartbeat, his arms going under her, and he hoists her up and carries her out of the forest. She clutches at his shirt, his proximity, his warmth and his scent pushing back her terror, until finally there is nothing again but her need.

The plane has touched down not far from the mobile, which is burning merrily at this point, and the woman with the white hair isn’t alone. There are two more people, a red-headed woman with kind eyes, and a man with some sort of weird glasses. Logan stops ten yards from them, Marie clutched protectively to his chest.

There are explanations that she half listens to but doesn’t understand, and then there’s the prick of a needle in the crook of her elbow, and her eyes grow heavy. Logan is the last thing she sees before she goes to sleep, a worried look in his eyes.


	4. Westchester

Waking up is like wading through syrup. She can’t focus on anything, and it takes her forever to force her eyes open, only to close them again immediately. The lights are too bright, her limbs feel like lead, and she whimpers.

There is the rustle of fabric, and then the clacking of somebody’s heels on tile. “It’s alright, Rogue, you’re safe now.” A woman, her voice pitched low and gentle, so as not to startle. “My name is Jean. I’m a doctor. You’re probably feeling a little fuzzy.” Marie snorts indelicately at that, and Jean chuckles. “I had to give you a sedative and something to balance your hormone levels. You may feel some residual heat symptoms but the worst should be over.”

“Where am I?” Her voice breaks, her throat sore, and she swallows drily.

“You’re in New York. Westchester. We brought you and your… friend here after you were attacked.” A long pause, then, “Rogue, I need to ask you this. Were you with him because you wanted to? Or did he...”

Marie knows what she’s asking. There are still way too many Omegas forced into bonds or just kept as pets, so to speak, and she appreciates the concern the Beta woman has for her. It doesn’t stop the anger from bubbling up in her chest, and she forces her eyes open again. Jean, the red-head from before, has turned down the lights somewhat, so at least she can look at her now without her head splitting open like an overripe melon, but that’s all the positive she allows herself. She fixes the older woman with a look, her voice low. “I made him take me along. And he didn’t know that I’m an Omega until I realised I’d run out of suppressants.” Jean is looking back at her levelly, no hint of what she’s thinking on her face, and Marie huffs, annoyed. “Where is he?”

Jean considers her for a long moment before she answers. “Upstairs. Do you want me to get him?”

She nods, and after another pause, Jean turns and leaves, her heels _clack-clack-clack_ ing on the tiles. Marie pushes herself up into a sitting position, something she regrets almost immediately when the world spins around her, her stomach in her throat. She feels like she’s been run over by a truck, and there’s a strange emptiness inside her that she puts down to her heat being artificially broken. It’s a disconcerting feeling.

Ever so slowly, she moves her legs over the edge of the hospital bed she’s in and finally looks around. There are no windows, the walls a steely grey. Everything looks horribly expensive, even the gown she’s been put in. For a long moment she just sits there and breathes, waits for the nausea to recede, and as she waits, she realises she can hear the steady hum of electricity in the walls, the rumble of an elevator, and then steps outside, even though the wall looks to be at least a foot thick, the door airtight.

She should not be able to hear any of this, but then there’s a dark rumble of laughter in her head, and she can hear Victor telling her, _That’s me you got inside you, girlie_ , and she almost throws up. The door opens then, admitting Jean, Logan, and a man in an electric wheelchair, and relief floods her when Logan makes a beeline for her.

“You okay, kid?” He not so subtly puts himself between her and the others as he looks her over swiftly, and she nods, puts her hand on his arm and squeezes, to let him know she really is, even though she’s not sure that it’s true.

“I’m fine.” She grimaces when a fresh wave of nausea hits her. “Just dizzy. Like I had the flu.” She looks him over then, notices the fresh shirt he’s wearing. “You?” He nods, but he still seems agitated, and she wishes she had her gloves so she could take his hand.

Somebody clears their throat behind him, and he steps aside with a frown. The man in the wheelchair is smiling at them serenely, and it surprises Marie to find that he’s an Alpha. Then again, older Alphas have that tendency, to become unobtrusive and more focused on guiding the younger ones than they are on posturing.

“Rogue, welcome. My name is Charles Xavier, and this is my school.” He has a rich voice that instantly puts her at ease, and she resents it a little, to be honest. She looks around pointedly, at the surgical instruments laid out and ready on a little table by the wall, and cocks her head to the side.

“Do all schools in New York State come with their own operating rooms?”

Xavier chuckles. “I wouldn’t know, my dear. This is no ordinary school, as you probably have gathered.”

Marie returns his gaze calmly. “You’re mutants.” A nod, and she doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or apprehensive.

What follows is an information dump unlike anything she’s experienced so far, and by the time the Professor – for that is what Jean keeps calling him – bids her a good night and rolls out the door, her head is spinning from more than just the after-effects of her heat. Jean brings her fresh clothes, soft sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, cotton gloves and a flimsy scarf that belongs to Jean, along with a new bottle of suppressants, and once she’s changed out of the hospital gown, Logan leads her out of the room, ignoring Jean’s unsubtle suggestion that she can take Marie to her room, that he doesn’t have to bother.

“You’re stayin’ with me,” he says as the door to the elevator slides open, not looking at her, and Marie feels warmth bloom in her cheeks.

The elevator opens on what can only accurately be described as a mansion, and she can hear the hum of activity on the other side of the building. That must be where the dormitories are, she thinks as she follows Logan to a staircase and up, to a room on the second floor.

The room isn’t all that big, clearly designed for one person, although the bed looks to have a queen size mattress, which is where she sits, hands in her lap. Logan paces, obviously uncomfortable, and before she can stop it, she whines, low in her throat. He stops abruptly and looks at her before he takes a deep breath and moves to sit next to her.

“I’m sorry.”

Talk about left field. “About what?”

He squirms, his hands twitching with restless energy. “I should’ve… He touched you. He almost...”

“Hey.” She winds her arms around one of his, holds onto it, and he stills. “Nothing happened. And you…,” she swallows around the sudden lump in her throat, “You protected me. You didn’t have to do that _but you did_.” Her grip on his arm tightens, and there are tears in her eyes again, and then she’s sobbing.

Logan unwinds her arm from his and pulls her into his lap, tucks her under his chin, and lets her cry. After a while his chest starts vibrating, and she realises he’s _purring_ , and it’s such a loaded, intimate thing that she forgets to breathe for a moment. He notices what he’s doing then, and he too holds his breath, until she looks up at him.

He moves her off his lap, carefully, gently, then stands, his whole body rigid. “Go to bed, Marie. You need sleep.” And with that, he stalks off, the door closing behind him quietly, and Marie stands there for a long while, staring at it and wondering what the fuck is happening.


	5. Bond

She startles awake a few hours later, the remnants of her nightmare swimming before her eyes in the dark, and she groans, shakes her head to get rid of them. _Thanks a lot, Victor_ , she thinks, and he chuckles darkly in response.

There’s a growl coming from the corner of the room, and she fumbles for the light on the night stand. Logan is slumped in a chair there, asleep, his brows creased, caught in a nightmare of his own, and she slides out of bed, pads over to him carefully. “Logan?” His growl deepens, and her hand hovers, uncertainly. But he looks… almost afraid, she thinks, and she touches his arm. “Logan, wake up.”

Wake up he does, with a roar that makes her hair stand on end, and before she can react he has unsheathed his claws and then all she knows is pain. Horrible, burning pain, and she looks down to see his claws disappearing in her chest, and when she gasps, it comes out as a wet gurgle.

Marie can see the moment the veil of his nightmare lifts, when his eyes widen, his mouth falls open, and then he sheaths his claws again. The look in his eyes is absolutely heartbreaking. She slumps forward, unable to hold herself upright, and he catches her.

“Marie!” And then he panics, screaming for help, _somebody help_ , and she knows what she needs to do, brings her hand up to his face, and he’s staring at her, wide-eyed. She tugs him down and he follows her lead until they’re a breath apart, and she presses her lips to his. For four long heartbeats nothing happens, and then her skin switches on.

His thoughts rush into her head, an overwhelming sense of guilt, regret, and beneath all that, a need for her that makes her insides clench. She feels how her flesh, her skin, knits itself back together as his mutation flows through her, and she pushes him away, both of them gasping.

Logan blinks furiously, and when their eyes meet, it’s like she’s touched a live wire. She can tell he feels the same from the way his grip on her tightens, his fingers digging into her arms, and he opens his mouth to speak.

The door bangs open, Jean and the man with the weird glasses rushing in with something like fear on their faces. “What’s going on?”

“Rogue?” Jean, with such concern in her voice. “Are you okay?”

The man takes a step into the room, and Logan growls, a sound from deep in his chest, a clear warning, and Marie tears her eyes away from him. “I’m fine, Jean. It was just a nightmare.” She can tell the other woman doesn’t believe her, but both of them can read the signs, and Jean is a doctor. She knows what happens when you step between an Alpha and his mate.

_His mate._

Marie’s head is spinning.

“Alright. We’ll go, then.” She takes the man’s hand, tugs on it. “Scott. Come _on_.” She can’t quite hide the urgency in her voice, and Scott follows her reluctantly, even though it’s obvious how unhappy he is about it, his mouth a thin line of discontent. Jean sends a long, meaningful look Marie’s way, then she closes the door softly.

She turns back to look up at Logan, and there is that feeling again, like electricity running through her, and she shudders. “Logan, I...”

He’s on her mid-sentence, kissing her, once, twice, three times, never long enough for her skin to react, and Marie feels like her insides are turning to jelly. She’s still spread across his lap, and he slides his arm under her legs and picks her up, bridal style, and carries her to the bed. Marie’s heart is going a mile a minute, and when he lies down next to her and looks at her with eyes nearly black with desire, warmth pools in her belly.

“Did you take the suppressants Jean gave you?” His voice is like gravel, and she curls her toes into the sheets as she shakes her head. He smirks down at her, and she whimpers when he kisses her temple. “Good.” And, after another moment, “ _Good girl_.”


	6. Naked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't watch GoT before tomorrow but I got spoilered about who dies and I'm really fucking annoyed with it (stop killing my favourites, God damn it!) so i need a little fluff and sympathy and thats why im posting this a little early. *angry huff*

_Fucking hell_ , Marie thinks as she presses her thighs together, embarrassed that just two words can make her want to present for him, like they’re cavemen ruled by their instincts alone. But then he slides a warm hand over her ribcage and tugs her flush against him, and she finds she doesn’t actually care all that much if it’s _unbecoming_ , as her momma would put it.

She remembers the look of disappointment on her parents’ faces when it had become apparent that she was an Omega, how ashamed they had been, _why us, we’re a good Christian family_ , remembers how her father called Omegas sluts who got their asses in the air for just about anyone, the only time he ever cursed in front of her, but when she looks up at Logan, she thinks that they just had no idea what the hell they were talking about.

He continues kissing her, so carefully, and then he unwinds the scarf from around her neck, spreads it more evenly and then he’s kissing her throat, with the occasional nip of teeth, and Marie arches her back and moans. It’s all the encouragement he needs, his hand moving from her ribs up to her breast, the shirt just thin enough that she can feel every little touch. He rubs a thumb over her nipple, noses her scent glands with a sigh of contentment, and all she wants is to get out of her pants, _right the fuck now._

“Logan...” 

“Gonna make you feel so good, darlin’, like I should’ve done in the first place.” His hand moves over her belly, and there’s a fluttering inside her as he places his palm at the juncture of her thighs, his hand so warm even through the fabric of her sweatpants. She’s wet already, very much so, she realises, at about the same time he does, and Logan rubs her, slowly, much too slowly. “Hold still, sweetheart,” he tells her as he lifts his hand again, one claw slowly sliding out between his knuckles, and she freezes, holds her breath as he ever so carefully cuts a hole into her pants.

The air is shockingly cool against the wetness between her legs, and Logan tugs down her scarf, places it just so, and when he moves into place and takes hold of her thighs, holds her still for him, she understands what he’s about to do, and she blushes.

The first touch of his tongue against her feels strange, an exploration mostly, but then he rumbles a pleased growl into her flesh, finds the little bundle of nerves she knows has no function other than giving her pleasure, and she arches her back with a groan.

Everything moves rather quickly after that, and not nearly quickly enough. By the time he crawls up her body and presses a quick kiss to her lips, one that she can taste herself in, she’s heavy-limbed and her mind is turning to mush. She half suspects that it’s a remnant of her heat that she puts up no resistance whatsoever, and she doesn’t mind _one bit._

He pulls his belt free, the buckle _clink_ ing against the floor when he drops it over the side of the bed, and when he’s done unbuttoning his jeans, she just _stares_ for a moment. Of course she’s learned all about Alpha physiology, from the book her friend Judy brought to her house one day, a thin biology textbook from the 1940s that she had found in her grandmother’s bookshelf, and so Marie knows, technically, what to expect.

Seeing it with her own eyes is something else entirely.

He looks, quite frankly, enormous to her inexperienced eyes, and she swallows drily. Logan’s gaze follows the bob of her throat, and he cocks a quizzical eyebrow. Her cheeks are on fire when she mumbles, “I’ve never actually...”

And oh, that is what a _very pleased_ Alpha looks like.

Logan pulls out his wallet, and Marie notes with some sort of amusement that apparently it’s true about guys keeping condoms there. “I thought you weren’t supposed to keep condoms in your wallet.”

He tosses said wallet over his shoulder and smirks at her. “Not for long periods of time, no.”

Oh. Of course. A virile, handsome Alpha like him? It’s only natural that he’d have girls lining up to share his bed, girls with experience, with skin he can touch, that won’t kill him…

“Marie.” Her eyes snap up to his, half expecting anger, but there is a soft look in his eyes, one of understanding, as if he’s read her thoughts. “None of them meant anything to me.”

He doesn’t need to say that this, that she _does_ mean something to him.

She lets her legs fall open again, watching him as she does, and a shiver runs down her spine when his eyes darken.


	7. Past

Her heart is in her throat when Logan moves to kneel between her spread thighs, watching with wide eyes as he rips open the condom packet with his teeth, never looking away from her, and anticipation makes her insides flutter. And when he has rolled on the condom and moves forward, still keeping her gaze, she holds her breath, waiting for… whatever comes next.

He nudges against her entrance, slowly, gently, until he realises she’s still holding her breath, stiff as a board beneath him, and he leans down and kisses her just as gently. “You gotta breathe, darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Marie wants to believe him as she lets the air rush from her lungs, wants to believe that he _wouldn’t_ hurt her, but she really can’t see how that’s even possible. Her eyes flicker from his down between them as she bites her lip, and Logan follows her gaze. Her scarf still lies across her lower stomach, and he tugs it into place again, lets his thumb find her clitoris, and then he’s purring again, and Marie goes boneless. With anyone else, she’d feel lost, scared, but she finds she just… feels safe. Cherished, even.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushes forward then, with the sort of restraint she’d have thought impossible for an Alpha. The intrusion feels… strange, and slightly uncomfortable, but even though she keeps waiting for the pain – it never comes.

It’s the strangest thing. All her life she was told that, once an Alpha caught scent of an Omega, let alone an Omega in heat, they’d “forget all their manners,” as her momma had put it. Alphas and Omegas, her parents said, are little more than animals, _so isn’t it nice that we’re all Betas, dear?_

Marie never told her parents about the whisperings she’d overheard at church and at school after both her gender and her mutation had become public knowledge, how two Betas having a kid were probably why she had turned out to be an Omega _and_ a mutant. _Weak genes_ , one of their elders had said.

Even now, she’s confused by that world view. Aren’t Omegas supposedly prized for their reproductive capabilities? Their fertility? She’d always thought people like those at their church would welcome someone like her, but they hadn’t. Quite the opposite.

None of that matters any longer, anyway, she thinks, as Logan gently nudges her thighs wider apart, as he looks at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. It reminds her of the kitschy (not entirely child appropriate) romance novels her memaw used to store in her attic, the ones Marie spent many hours sitting in her tree house reading, and of the knowing wink the old woman gave her when Marie came down from the attic, badly hiding one of the books under her shirt. The books usually featured a sweet, fawnish Omega who found herself bonded to a rugged, darkly handsome Alpha, softening him up with “the magic of hanky panky”, to borrow a phrase from her friend Judy. It had all been stupid clichés, something Marie thought herself immune to.

 _Until now_ , she thinks as Logan stops moving for a long moment, a moment in which she realises how tense _he_ is, the muscles in his arms clearly visible through the skin, and only then does the effort he’s making for her really hit her. There’s probably more to the clichés than she thought.

“Logan?” The softness of her own voice surprises her, and his gaze snaps up to meet hers. His eyes are black, the hunger in them making her mouth go dry, and before she realises what she is doing, she rolls her hips against his.

It’s like she has thrown a switch. He slides his hands to her hips, holds her in place, and starts moving. For a second, she panics, shoves at his chest, afraid that now he’ll turn into the beast she was taught to see Alphas as, that he’ll break his promise and _take_ and hurt her. Instead, he slides his fingers under her butt and angles her hips up to meet him, and her mouth falls open in a silent, “ _Oh._ ”


	8. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had an absolutely brilliant weekend, it was SpaceCommander's birthday, so here we go with me posting early since I'm in such a good mood! Enjoy, my dears!
> 
> (Also I'm shit at replying to comments but rest assured that every single one of them is much appreciated. ❤ )

She is on fire.

At least that’s what it feels like. Logan keeps hitting a spot deep inside her that makes all sorts of embarrassing sounds come out of her mouth, sounds that seem to only egg him on, that, if her brain hadn’t turned into mush, she’d describe as “wanton”. His purring has kicked up a notch, so much so she can feel it vibrating in her throat, and something curls in her belly, like an itch, something she has no name for but that she knows will be oh so good when she reaches the end of it.

Logan leans down, resting on his lower arms, kisses her again, and she sighs against his lips. This is far removed from the frenzied desire of her heat, even though there is a sense of urgency as well, one that she is sure comes from their freshly formed bond, and that urgency only increases when she tilts her head to the side, barely conscious of doing it.

The sound Logan makes curls her toes, and his hips snap forwards, making her yelp. “Don’t do that, Marie. Not unless you mean it.” His voice is strained, and when she looks up at him, she’s struck by the look of… desperation, almost, on his face. His body is obviously telling him to take her up on her offer, to solidify their bond with a mating bite, to make it truly irreversible. The man that is he can’t allow it, not without her consent, the man who is scared of himself and what he could do to her, and Marie reaches up and touches his cheek, smooths her thumb along the line of his jaw.

“I trust you, Logan.”

He curls around her, buries his head in her hair, his breath coming in short bursts as he continues to fight his biology. “Marie...” It’s hardly more than a growl, and she lifts her legs, mewling as this drives him into her so much deeper. His whole body tenses, and his lips brush against the shell of her ear. “If I do this, there’s no going back, darling. Do you understand?”

Her only response is to tilt her head, giving him space, and Logan sucks in a breath.

Marie tenses, despite herself, as he noses her scent glands, as he moves down her neck. In turn, his tension has all but fallen away, his thrusts more purposeful, and he pushes a hand between them, finds her clitoris. He breathes her name into her hair as she feels herself tighten, as her vision blurs, and finally, _finally_ , that sense of urgency in her increases again until it’s almost unbearable.

Logan sinks his teeth into her flesh then, where her shoulder meets her neck, and stars pop before Marie’s eyes, a whine stuck in her throat. She can feel his knot bumping against her, and for a second she panics again, even though her brain is still muddled from her orgasm, but the thought of being knotted terrifies her. Her skin switches on then, Logan’s emotions pouring into her as he bites harder, breaking the skin, and his hips stutter. She cries out then, shoving against his chest as her head starts spinning, and he lets go with a groan.

He lifts himself up on his elbows, trembling, and she whines, distressed, when she sees how his skin split open on his cheeks, sweat running along the line of his jaw. There’s blood coating his lips, his teeth, and she shudders.

She can feel him in her head, a single-minded devotion to her which she would have thought impossible a mere week ago, something she has never experienced, never witnessed. She always viewed all this talk of the power of a bond as romantic nonsense, but now, as she watches her reflection in his eyes, she can feel it take root inside of her.

It’s simultaneously terrifying and awe-inspiring.

After another long moment, he rolls off of her, pulling her against him immediately. His breathing is still laboured, and she watches the tears on his face slowly mend themselves. There’s a pleasant tingle between her thighs, a soreness she has never felt, and she presses herself against him, curls her fingers into his shirt.

“You okay?” His voice is a dark rasp, sending another shiver down her back, and she nods.

“More than.” He chuckles at that, and she flushes, grinning. But it’s true. She feels… safe. Loved. She knows it’s a trick of her biology, to ensure the best possible offspring, but she doesn’t care. She has only known him for a couple of days but he already proved his qualities as an Alpha, as a man, to her, and she suspects that she would’ve fallen for him even if they were both Betas.

He slides a hand into her hair, his fingertips just brushing against her scalp, and she starts purring, something else she’s never done before, and he brushes a kiss against her forehead.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

And she does, satisfied in a way she didn’t know was possible, his body warm and solid beside her, and she wants to stay in this moment forever.


	9. New

Marie wakes slowly, but this time is unlike the day before. Now, she is just too comfortable, too warm and safe to try and let go of sleep just yet. She sighs happily, burrows deeper into the blankets, content.

“Good morning,” Logan purrs, his body curling around her back, and she hums.

“Morning.” She half expects it to be awkward, but he slides his arm around her waist and pulls her closer, his lips brushing over the back of her neck for a moment.

“Still okay?” His voice is pitched low, calming, and she smiles into her pillow.

“Still more than.” His lips find the bite mark he put on her then, and her breath hitches. It’s not the bloody mess she would have expected, and when she raises her hand to her neck, she only finds tender new skin. “It’s gone.” She turns and looks at him with wide eyes, suddenly upset, but he just smiles and shushes her.

“It’s the healing.” He tugs her close, against his chest, his heartbeat calm and steady under her palm. “It doesn’t matter. We’re bonded,” and her heart jumps when he says this, his voice soft, “and nobody’s gonna dare take you away.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There’s a quiet knock on the door a while later, and when Logan opens, it’s Jean. She still looks concerned, and Marie smiles at her, hoping to calm the other woman somewhat. Judging by the look on her face, it doesn’t really work.

“I thought you might want breakfast. Would you be okay with eating with the students?”

Logan looks back at her, one eyebrow cocked in question, and Marie nods.

She can feel Jean’s eyes on her as they walk to the cafeteria, can almost taste her desire to get Marie alone, to ask her questions, and she’s almost relieved when they enter the cafeteria and Logan steers her to a booth as he asks her what she wants, and when he looks torn between getting her food and staying by her side without exposing her to the dozens of students running back and forth between the tables and the food counter, Jean smoothly offers to stay and keep her company. He looks doubtful for a second, but he acquiesces when Marie gives a little nod.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells her, before he fairly stalks off.

Jean slides into the booth opposite her and gives her a long look. “So you bonded.” When Marie just nods in response, the other woman rubs a hand over her eyes tiredly. “And you’re fine with this? I mean, you really are?”

Marie laughs. “You know asking me that is pointless. If he had forced the bond, I would still be bonded to him, ensuring my loyalty.” She gives a half-shrug. “Up to a point, anyway.” She looks back up at Jean, earnestly. “It just happened. I don’t know if it’s because of my heat or what brought it on, but… He’s a good man, Jean. A good Alpha.”

Jean looks back at her, silently, for a long while, until she finally nods. “Okay. But if there’s anything you need, if anything goes wrong, please don’t hesitate.” She reaches across the table and offers her hand, palm up, and after a moment, Marie takes it. Jean smiles then, a genuine smile that Marie can’t help but return. “We can be your family, Rogue, if that’s something you want. Our doors are always open.”

Two girls and a boy practically materialise next to the table then, with the unmistakable air of barely restrained curiosity about them, and Marie hides a smile by pretending to push her hair out of her face. Jean turns her attention to them, although it’s clear they’re here to talk to Marie.

“Hey, anything you guys needed?”

One of the girls, wearing a ridiculously bright yellow jacket, steps forward with a grin. “We wanted to say hi to the new girl. Are you a new student?”

Marie feels very much like a deer in headlights all of a sudden. She knows that this is a school but she hasn’t given the idea even a seconds thought until now. She barely finished high school before she left home, and her future didn’t exactly take centre stage these last couple of months. “I...”

“She’s not a student.” They all jump at Logan’s growled reply, and the kids step aside to give him space. He moves forward, placing a tray filled with bacon, eggs and fruit in front of her. “We’re just passing through.”

Jean cocks an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. “Rogue, this is Jubilee,” she points at the girl in yellow, “Kitty and Bobby. They used to be students here but they’re freshmen in college now.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rogue,” Bobby says with a smile and leans forward, to offer her his hand, but he stops mid-movement when Logan growls, deep and threatening, and Marie slides to the edge of the bench, closer to him despite the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

It’s Jean who breaks the tension when she stands with a smile. “Guys, give them some space, they’re had a rough couple of days and need rest. I’m sure there will be time to get acquainted.” She gives Logan a look, and he appears mildly sheepish at his outburst. “Professor Xavier would like to talk to you later, Logan. He’ll be in his office.” She looks down at Marie, and her expression softens. “Would you mind coming down to the med lab later? I’d like to do a last check of your injuries before you leave.”

Marie nods, and Jean shoos the others away to their own table. She watches them go, a sudden hollow feeling in her gut.

Logan touches her shoulder gently, and she slides back into the booth, making room for him to sit. She watches in silence as he divides the food and puts a plate in front of her. “Eat, darlin’, Jean is right. You need rest, and proper food.”

She picks up her fork, conscious of the way he’s watching her, and pokes at her eggs. “Why did you growl at him?”

Again, he looks sheepish, more so than with Jean. “I couldn’t stop it.” His voice is very quiet. “He reached for you and I just…”

“He was just being nice.” She knows she sounds petulant, and she hates it.

“Look.” He rubs a hand over his face, turns his body towards her. “All this is new for me, too. I know he wasn’t trying anything but...” There’s a sort of helplessness in his eyes, and she moves closer and takes his hand, entangles their fingers.

“We’ll figure this out. I’m sure.”


	10. Biological Imperative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep meaning to mention this but I also keep forgetting, so here goes. I'm occasionally updating the tags whenever new stuff happens during writing, so you might want to check them every now and then if there's anything that would put you off.
> 
> I have also made a playlist with stuff I listen to while writing or that just reminds me of these two, you can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-f6Rj4gnNNKh_qoyEbYbKoOaJG_6R55H).

Logan is reluctant to let her walk around the mansion by herself, and so he accompanies her to the med lab before he leaves for his meeting with Professor Xavier. Jean is already working, tapping away at a keyboard, dainty glasses perched on the tip of her nose, and Marie thinks how beautiful she is.

“You wanted to see Rogue, here she is.” He’s probably not even aware he’s doing it, but he places himself between her and Jean, and Marie is pretty certain that this whole Alpha posturing thing is new. From the look Jean gives him, she too notices the difference, but she doesn’t say anything, just nods and turns back to her computer.

“Just a second.” 

It’s pretty obvious to Marie that she’s doing this to give them space to talk without her scrutiny, and Logan seizes the opportunity, blocking her from view as he slides a hand over her throat, to her neck, squeezing softly as he leans down to kiss her. “Just wait here for me when you’re done,” he says then, and Marie swallows the sassy reply that sits on her tongue. Being the focus of his attention feels wonderful, but it’s also a little overwhelming, and she makes herself purr lowly as he kisses her again.

She breathes a sigh when the door slides shut behind him, and lets herself sink into a chair. She’s grinning, she realises.

Jean takes off her glasses and folds them carefully before she places them next to her keyboard. When she turns around, her face is serious. “Was he like this before you bonded?”

Marie shakes her head. “No. He was… just a normal guy. Nice, and concerned about what happened to me.” She looks down at her hands. “But this is new.”

The other woman sighs, rubs her hands over her thighs. She’s clearly uncomfortable. “Rogue, I know this is personal, and I wouldn’t ask you this under different circumstances but...” She takes a deep breath. “Did he knot you last night?”

Blood rushes to Marie’s face, and she stares at Jean, incredulous, but when the other woman doesn’t look away, doesn’t say anything more, she shakes her head, slowly. “No, he… He didn’t try.” She’s ready to die of embarrassment, but she figures there must be a reason for this question.

“Shit. That’s what I feared.” At Marie’s questioning look, she sighs. “Your bond is unstable. The Alpha in him doesn’t know if you’re really bound to him, not until he’s knotted you.” She shrugs. “Our bodies can be stupid sometimes.”

Marie laughs then, her embarrassment ebbing away.

They could become friends, she thinks, if she stayed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Logan comes to fetch her an hour later. During that time, Jean has indeed checked her injuries, amazed to see that they are all gone, and Marie has explained how exactly her mutation works, after the bare bones explanation of the prior day. Jean looked simultaneously intrigued and horrified before she disappeared for a while, returning with two thin body suits.

“We use these under our uniforms. They’re breathable and very thin. Might work for you, better than always wearing these thick layers.”

And Marie throws her arms around the other woman’s neck, hugging her. “Thank you, Jean. Truly.”

That’s when Logan walks in, the Professor following behind him. Someone gave him gloves, Marie notices. She steps back from Jean, and Logan immediately winds an arm around her waist and pulls her against him, nosing the crown of her head. All that’s missing is him rubbing against her like a cat, she thinks, marking her with his scent, and she exchanges a look with Jean.

“Logan has agreed to stay for a little while, if that is alright with you, Rogue.” Again, Xavier’s voice puts her at ease immediately, and she nods. “Wonderful. Would you be interested in touring the school? I’m sure Jean and Scott would be happy to show you around.”

Jean’s smile is decidedly awkward. “Maybe a little later. Rogue shouldn’t overdo it right now.” Her and the Professor exchange a long look, and finally he nods.

“That’s quite alright.” He smiles at Marie, gently. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 _He knows_ , she thinks, and a flush creeps into her cheeks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jean calls her over to the computer before they leave, under the pretence of needing to show her something, and she scribbles on a piece of paper. __

‘This sounds horrible but he needs to knot you or his behaviour will escalate. It’s dangerous for both of you.’

__

__Marie looks up at her, swallows hard. Then she nods, and Jean squeezes her hand, sympathy rolling off of her.

Logan takes her back to their room, and he’s twitchy and on edge the whole way, only relaxing minutely once the door closes behind them. “Why are teenager so god damn loud?”

She chuckles as she kicks off her shoes. “What did the Professor want to talk to you about?”

He huffs and shrugs out of his shirt, tosses it over a chair. “Wanted me to join their super hero outfit.” He gives her a long look. “He said the Alpha who attacked us belongs to a group called the Brotherhood. Mutants who believe coexistence with regular humans is impossible.”

Marie sits on the bed, pulls her leg up and under her. “So supervillains then.”

Logan smiles at that and walks over to her, strokes gentle fingertips along the line of her jaw. “Exactly.” He sighs then, and sits down next to her, leans back against the headboard and tugs her against him. “They call themselves the X-Men. Bunch of geeks in fancy leather suits.”

She looks up at the ceiling, thinks back to how it felt to sit in the cafeteria with Jean, surrounded by other mutants. To be welcomed into this house without a second thought.

“I think… I think I’d like to stay. For a while at least.” She looks at him then, bites her lip. “I want to know why he attacked us.”

He returns her gaze for a long moment before he taps his fingers against her forehead. “He’s in here, isn’t he?” She nods slowly, and his lip curls back in a snarl. “Am I?”

Marie whimpers softly and pushes herself up, then presses her lips to his, until she can feel the first pull of her power, can feel him seeping into her. She pulls back with a gasp, and Logan winds an arm around her waist and pulls her on top of him. Another gasp as she settles on his lap, when he takes hold of her hips and holds her in place, and she whimpers again. “Of course you are.”

His eyes are dark, and his smile turns wicked as she looks down at him. “Good.”


	11. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sings* The internet is for porn, the internet is for porn...

Marie’s heart is in her throat as he slides his hands up her ribcage, as he cups her breasts, the hunger back in his eyes, and she mewls softly. “Logan, I...” A pinch when he rolls her nipple between thumb and finger, setting her nerve endings aflame. “Wait,” she gasps, makes herself move off of him. He looks confused, and she goes to the desk, where she dropped the suits. “Jean gave me these.”

He sits up, interest piqued, and Marie shakes one out to show him. His eyes go wide for a second, and then he smirks at her. “I like the way that woman thinks.”

Marie blushes, grins. “Should I...”

Logan is on his feet in a flash, much faster than she thought someone of his size could be. He slides his hands into her hair and kisses her, heatedly, licks into her mouth and she tingles, all over. “Can I...” He tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt, gently, and her breath stutters.

He wants to undress her. Wants to see her, all of her.

There’s a lump in her throat, a whimper stuck behind it. Without the frenzy of her heat, the idea is as ludicrous to her as going for a walk in an active volcano. Months of covering herself from head to heel have turned the idea of nudity into a foreign concept, something from Before that Marie sometimes did, not something Rogue can do, least of all in front of another person.

But then she looks up at him, and he brushes his fingers over the spot where her mark ought to be, and something in her chest loosens, like a knot that becomes undone, and she nods slowly.

Logan goes slow, hardly looks away from her face, watching how she reacts, and she thinks that if she were to say stop at any moment, he would stop, no matter how hard it would be for him.

Finally, she stands before him, naked as the day she was born, and she forces her hands to her sides, forces herself to return his gaze as he stands there, the heat in his eyes enough to burn her alive.

He helps her into the suit, just as gently, as though she’s a wild animal he’s careful not to spook, and the comparison isn’t that ill-fitting. She feels… strange, wearing nothing but the flimsy material, the air cool enough to make her nipples pebble, and when Logan pulls off his glove and brushes his knuckles over her hip bone, goosebumps rise on her skin.

“Logan...” She’s whining, she realises, and he smiles and tugs his t-shirt over his head in answer, and her mind goes pleasantly blank. He’s slimmer than she thought he would be, realising that much of his bulk comes down to all the layers he wears, but he’s definitely the most muscular man she has ever laid eyes on. Marie watches, breathless, as he unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his jeans. There’s a sort of ringing in her head, and when he has kicked off his boots and finally stands naked in front of her, she stares some more, before she blurts, “Jean said that you have to knot me.”

He goes very still, and Marie is hyper aware of how loud her breathing is in the sudden silence.

And then he’s on her, quite literally sweeping her off her feet and basically tossing her onto the bed. She gives an undignified squeak as she bounces lightly on the mattress, and then Logan covers her body with his, finds her mouth and kisses her, their teeth knocking together for a moment before he moves back. He’s breathing hard, and Marie stares up into his eyes, black with need. “ _Omega_.”

His voice is gravel, a dark, heated rasp that sets her blood to boiling, and she whimpers, presses herself against him, bares her throat, all rational thought forgotten as she feels a sudden rush of wetness between her thighs. Her hands flutter for a moment, unsure, before she reaches down, between her legs and to the cleverly hidden snaps which had amused her tremendously when Jean pointed them out to her, a light flush in the woman’s cheeks. “They’re meant for bathroom breaks but… You know.”

Marie knows, now, as she fumbles them open, as she slides her fingers lower, until she can feel the tips of her gloves become damp. Logan pushes himself up onto his elbow, his gaze following her hand, and he starts purring as he watches her. She mewls and holds her hand up, feeling immediately bereft, until he winds an arm around her waist, rolls to his back and pulls her with him, until she straddles him again.

She watches, through a haze of arousal, as he produces a condom packet, opens it. Watches as he rolls it on, and he takes her hand in his and guides it to his cock, wraps her fingers around himself, and Marie’s mouth goes dry at the sound he makes. He’s incredibly hot, even through the fabric of her glove, and she gives an experimental twist of her hand. Logan gives her an appreciative rumble, and she bites her lip as she slides the pad of her thumb along the underside.

Intellectually, she knows that he fits inside her, but now that she has her hand on him, he looks somehow even bigger, and anxiety creeps back into the pit of her stomach. Her eyes drift down, and her breath hitches. His knot is already forming, and she can’t stop the whimper that falls from her lips, a sound of pure distress at the idea of having that shoved into her, and Logan immediately peels her hand off of his cock and sits up.

“You okay?”

She knows she’s staring. Her eyes don’t obey her, fixed in place, until Logan hooks a finger under her chin and makes her look up at him.

“Marie?”

“I… It’s just...” Her eyes twitch from side to side, unable to meet his gaze. “Th-that’s _never going to fit_.” It’s almost a stage whisper, and blood shoots into her cheeks, part anxiety, part embarrassment at having to give voice to this.

To his credit, Logan doesn’t laugh, as she half expects him to, just smiles gently before he kisses her again, softly, carefully, purring lowly. He has figured out how long it usually takes her skin to react, and he takes full advantage, deepening his kisses until her power just starts reaching for him, until it starts to hurt just a little, until small tendrils of him seep into her. It’s playing with fire, and Marie could never have imagined actually _enjoying_ this, experimenting with her mutation like this, and the thought of doing it with anybody but him makes her queasy. He licks into her mouth, and she whimpers, her fear of being knotted evaporating.

He tugs her forward, into his lap, until they’re pressed together, his arm around her waist, and when he lifts her slightly, she lets her head fall back and her eyes close, something inside her unfurling, an Omegan instinct that knows what’s going to happen.

“Look at me,” he rumbles, and she does, as he reaches down and positions himself, and she thinks she’s going to burst into flames when he slides into her.

Logan starts purring, murmurs, “Go on, darling,” into her ear, and she does. He could probably tell her to jump off the roof right now and she’d do it. Her hips move experimentally, a slow roll, and another and another, until she’s panting, sweat beading on her brow, and when he slides a hand between them, she gasps and speeds up. Nothing matters now, except this, her state of mind very close to that peculiar single-mindedness she experienced during her heat, and she wonders fleetingly if it’s always like this.

His hand moves up her back, rests on the nape of her neck. Not quite gripping her, but holding on, grounding her. _Possessive_ , she thinks, and she shudders at the idea. It’s true, though. Through the bond and the mating bite, _he owns her_. She feels herself tighten, and Logan rubs his thumb over her clitoris, hard, and she flies apart with a shout.

When he slides out of her and moves her off his lap, onto the bed on her belly, she is loose-limbed and drowsy, and he presses kisses to her shoulder, down her spine, before he slides his hands under her hips and pulls her up onto her knees. She sighs into the pillow as his thumbs glide over the swell of her hips, whimpers when he pushes into her again. The stretch is different like this, tighter, and she tilts her hips, tries to find a position where it’s less intense.

Logan’s hand moves up her back, along her spine, until he can take a hold of her neck again, and now his grip is firm when he murmurs her name, and her limbs turn to jelly. “Relax, darling,” he says, and the press of his hips against hers is insistent, determined, and it takes her a moment to process what’s happening. His thrusts are slower, yet deeper, slowly stretching her open, and for a breathless moment she’s insanely grateful. She knows there are many, many Alphas who don’t care about the comfort of Omegas, who don’t care if knotting hurts them. He could just shove his cock into her and be done with it, and nobody would care.

“I’m lucky I met you,” she murmurs into the sheets, and Logan groans.

“ _Omega_ ,” he growls into her hair as he bends over her, and she mewls in response.

And then he’s inside her, all the way inside her, and stars burst before her eyes, and she thinks, _What is that sound_ , before she realises it’s her who is making it, a guttural, animalistic noise she didn’t think her throat could even produce. Logan groans again, “ _Fuck_ , Marie,” his breath hot against her shoulder, and then she feels wetness run down her thighs, feels his abs twitch against her back.

Finally, finally, he winds his arm around her waist, holds her against him and manoeuvrers both of them onto their sides, presses a breathless kiss to the back of her neck. Marie is sore and sensitive and over-stimulated, and when he moves his hand down and between her thighs, she jumps slightly, gasping. “Stop, _please_ , it’s...”

He purrs, scrapes his teeth over her neck, and Marie relaxes immediately. It’s like he has thrown a switch, and she only whimpers when he moves his fingers over her mound, down to where they are joined, and she feels herself spasm around him, pushing her hips back against him, and it’s torture, and it feels _so good_.

“I got you, darling,” he breathes against her skin, and she knows he means it.


	12. X-Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have actually finished this (yeah, I can't believe it either!) so I am changing the posting schedule from every two weeks to once a week.
> 
> Thank you all for leaving kudos, comments ❤ and just sticking with me through this. I adore every single one of you.

She is woken by the sun, warming her thigh where it pokes out from beneath the blanket, and Marie hums sleepily. There is an ache in all her limbs, a soreness between her thighs, and she pulls the blanket up to her chin with a sigh.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart,” Logan rumbles from beside her, and she grins.

“I don’t do mornings,” she says into the pillow, before he winds an arm around her and pulls her against him.

“Well, that’s a pity.” His hand moves down, between her thighs, as he pulls her closer yet, until she can feel the hard line of his cock against her back, and Marie smiles. “Is there some way I could persuade you to get up?” She rolls over until she’s on her back, his arm still around her, and tilts her head up invitingly. Logan loses no time, moulds his lips to hers with a sigh as his hand goes into her hair. “I’m gonna have to make a supply run,” he says between kisses, smirks at her questioning look. “I’m running out of condoms.”

Marie giggles, and as he kisses her again, hungrily, she thinks, _How is this my life?_

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When they finally make their way downstairs, the cafeteria is almost empty, only a few stragglers, mostly older students, hunched over their trays, clinging to their cups of coffee like to a lifeline. Logan goes off in search of food for them both, and Marie sits in a booth, wincing slightly as she tries to find a comfortable position. Her cheeks redden as she fidgets, and as she watches Logan pile food onto a plate, she is again hit by the realisation that she’s now a mated, bonded Omega, when only a week ago, she was a runaway who had nothing but the clothes on her back.

 _I wonder what momma would say to that_ , she thinks, smirking painfully.

Jean walks into the cafeteria then, accompanied by Scott and the white-haired woman, and it’s obvious that they are on a mission. Marie snickers to herself as she watches Logan notice them, watches the way he rolls his eyes and pretends not to see them as he punches the buttons on the coffee maker.

She can’t hear what they’re saying to him, but it’s clear from the look on his face that he’s not particularly interested. Finally he gives a shrug and looks over to her, cocks an eyebrow, and she gets to her feet and walks over to them. Jean’s face is pleasantly neutral as she greets her, and Marie just gives her a small nod. The others probably don’t notice but the line of tension in her jaw disappears at this, and she smiles as she introduces Marie properly.

The white-haired woman’s name is Ororo, another teacher as well as a member of the X-Men, and it turns out that they want to invite Logan to join them for a training session. Again, he cocks an eyebrow at Marie, and she shrugs. “Why not?” Her smile turns lopsided. “If you’re gonna be an X-Man, you gotta start somewhere, right?”

Logan huffs, and Scott chuckles, and Jean takes her hand and squeezes gently.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Training, it turns out, takes place in the lower levels where Marie woke up, and when Jean leads her into an observation room, she is slightly underwhelmed at first. The room below her looks like a gym, mostly, with tiled white walls, and she stands by the window with a sceptical look on her face.

“Am I missing something? How are they gonna train down there?”

Logan, Scott and Ororo enter the room below then, wearing the “fancy leather suits” Logan mentioned the day before, and he looks so uncomfortable in his that she has to stifle a laugh. Jean smiles gently as she taps a few buttons, and then Marie looks down on utter chaos.

It’s a city, burning houses and rubble, and Marie gawks as an explosion rattles everything below her. She can see it, but she can’t feel it, and when Jean stands next to her, she jumps slightly. “What...”

“We call it the Danger Room,” Jean explains. “All of this are holograms. A colleague of mine developed it a couple of years ago. Comes in handy, especially for training new recruits.”

They watch for a while as Logan slices his way through the simulated foes that appear, and it’s obvious fairly quickly that he’s not one for team work. Jean smirks as Scott yells at the other man, before they restart the program. Finally, she looks at Marie from the corner of her eye.

“So I take it you...” She gestures in Logan’s direction vaguely, and heat shoots into Marie’s cheeks as mumbles a confirmation. Jean just nods, all professional courtesy. “That’s good.”

Marie looks over at Jean for a moment. “You’re a Beta, aren’t you?” A nod, and she frowns. “But Scott’s an Alpha.”

The look on her face says that Jean has heard this one a lot, and she shrugs one elegant shoulder. “He is. We’re still in love.” She looks down at the fighting going on below them, at her husband. “I think about it, of course. What would happen if he came across an Omega he was compatible with.” She huffs a laugh. “I think about it a lot. But I don’t let it taint what I have now.”

She looks over at Marie with a smile, and Marie envies the optimism in Jean’s words.

“I never… I thought the stories about bonding were just that. Stories.” She bites the inside of her cheek, watches the fighting below them. Finds Logan, watches him take the head off a robot, and something like pride swells in her chest, pride directed at her Alpha, and she scrunches up her nose. “But it’s true, Jean.” She looks at the other woman again, sees the pain beneath the surface, and she pulls back. “I should go. I...”

“Rogue.” Jean’s eyes are kind, and her hand is warm when she takes Marie’s. “I understand.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Logan steps out of the Danger Room, he’s wearing what’s his equivalent of a wide grin, and they can all tell he loved every second of it.

“It’s okay, I guess,” he says when Scott asks him about it, and Marie snickers into her hand.

And that’s how it happens. Just like that. Logan joins the team, and Jean accompanies Marie on a tour of colleges close by, and it’s all so ordinary, she can’t quite believe it’s really happening. They’re given new rooms, larger and more suited to two people, and it all seems so permanent. Marie loves it, and even if Logan rolls his eyes and moans about _those damn teenagers_ , she knows he doesn’t mind exchanging the camper for this, at least not nearly as much as he pretends to.

 _We could be happy here_ , she thinks as she watches Logan and Scott bicker good naturedly over whiskey one evening, and when she starts purring, Jean takes her hand and squeezes, and it’s like coming home.


	13. Running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go! The Brotherhood has come to play...

Marie takes to sitting with Jean, in the med lab, watching as the other woman works. It’s simple, companionable. Jean is easily ten, 15 years older than her, but she understands. She knows Marie has seen some shit, and she doesn’t treat her like a child.

Although, being in a school, being around other mutants her age, kids who understand and can relate to her – it does have its perks. She’s hanging out more with Kitty, Bobby and Jubilee, and she can’t recall the last time she did that. Hang out, like any other 19-year-old, and it’s glorious. They watch movies and talk shit, and it’s easy, as though she’s been friends with them for ages.

But of course nothing good lasts. Senator Kelly appears one day, barely clinging to life. Marie is not part of the X-Men, and so nobody tells her anything, but she isn’t stupid. She sees the tension that’s taken hold of the team, and she does her best to stay out of their way.

Jean finds her that evening, in the library where Marie has curled up with a book, and the look on her face immediately makes the hair on Marie’s neck stand up. “What’s wrong?”

The redhead stands leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed in front of her. She looks tired. On edge. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Bobby Drake, haven’t you?”

Marie nods, slowly. “Yeah. And Kitty, and Jubilee. Why?”

A long look, before Jean sighs. “Logan came to me.”

It’s like someone has dropped a bucket of ice water over her head. She can’t breathe.

“He’s angry, Rogue. Really angry.”

She stares at Jean, swallows heavily at the pity in her eyes.

“You should go, before he does something stupid.”

The rational part of her wants to let the thought sit, wants to look at it for a while before she acts. Her hindbrain, the most Omegan part of her, already has her on her feet and out the door. She doesn’t have much, all her things still fit into a duffel bag. The impulse to grab one of Logan’s shirts is almost overwhelming, but she makes herself leave it, pulls on her coat and runs.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The train station is buzzing, like a giant beehive, filled with people, and she makes herself small, pulls her coat closed around herself like a shield. She buys a ticket, to somewhere, anywhere, wherever that isn’t here, she doesn’t care, all she knows is she has to put space between her and Logan. It makes no sense, not really, there was nothing between her and Bobby, but the thought of seeing anger, hurt, disappointment in Logan’s eyes, having those things directed at her – no. She can’t face that.

Her heart is splitting in two already, with the distance growing between them, but that would surely kill her.

She boards her train and settles into her seat, makes herself as small as possible, pulls up the hood of her coat. There’s a couple in the aisle across from her, making heart eyes at each other, a pretty young man almost in his Alpha’s lap, her hand on the nape of his neck, and Marie feels tears well up in her eyes as she watches them. _I need to go back_ , she thinks, unbidden, but the part of her that has become Rogue over the last couple of months gives her a resounding no. What she needs to do is keep herself safe, and if that means being away from Logan, then so be it.

Time seems to crawl as she waits for the train to leave, and then she feels her nose twitch, before her brain catches up. 

Logan.

Marie grabs her bag and jumps to her feet, earning herself a startled look from the couple, and she hurries to the back of the carriage, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Her hand is on the door handle when she hears the hiss of the other door opening, and knows it’s too late.

“Rogue.”

His voice is soft, almost… pleading? No, that can’t be. Her fingers tighten around the door handle, on the straps of her bag, and she’s caught. She wants to run, both away from him and into his arms, and the struggle paralyses her.

“You runnin’ again?”

Her eyes flicker in his direction. He’s still on the other side of the carriage, arms by his sides, and oh, the look on his face. Marie’s breath hitches in her throat, and she makes herself look away again. The Alpha woman has pushed her lover off her lap, she sees from the corner of her eye, a concerned look on her face.

“Are you okay, miss?” She looks in Logan’s direction, one eyebrow cocked, and Marie can tell when his hackles go up, can see his stance shift, and she makes herself nod.

“I’m fine, thank you.” The Omega peeks over the back of the seats, meets her eyes with an anxious look, and Marie smiles at him. It pulls painfully at her cheeks. “Really, just a… a misunderstanding.”

And then she’s walking towards him, eyes to the floor and her heart going a mile a minute, because the last thing she wants is to have the woman think she has to fight on her behalf.

As she’s walking past them, the Omega reaches across his Alpha, grabs Marie’s hand, and she startles, stares down at him. Logan takes a step forward, just one, and Marie’s throat closes up as she looks down at the young man, his eyes wide and imploring. The carriage stinks now, of distressed Omega and agitated Alpha, and he squeezes her hand. “My name’s Aidan. This is Carol.”

She realises what he’s doing, offering her his, their help, making sure she doesn’t feel alone. It’s sweet, and it only makes her feel worse. “Thanks,” she croaks, and gently pulls her arm from his grasp.

Logan relaxes when she continues in his direction, but his scent is still tinged with… fear, almost.

It makes a flicker of hope burst to life in her chest, and she doesn’t know whether to wrap it up and protect or to squash it.

He steps to the side when she reaches him, opens the door, and she steps through into the next carriage without looking at him. His hand, gentle, against her arm makes her jump, but she lets him guide her into a seat, clutches her bag to her chest as he sits next to her. He’s silent, then, for a long while, and she watches him from the corner of her eye. He looks… uncertain.

“What happened,” he asks, finally.

Marie stares down at her hands, swallows around the lump in her throat. “Jean said… that you were mad at me. Because of Bobby.”

Whatever reaction she was expecting, this isn’t it, because he huffs a laugh, and some of his tension fades. “Jean said so, huh?” And then he tells her, in a quiet voice, everything that has happened at the mansion, about the shape shifter, the Professor, her eyes growing wider and wider. When he’s done, he looks at her, holds out his hand, palm up, tentatively.

“So you’re not angry with me,” she croaks, and he gives her a lopsided half-smile.

“Of course not, darling,” he says, everything about him earnest and calm, and she bursts into fresh tears, throws herself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He holds her, fiercely, protectively, his scent taking on that earthy undertone that she loves so much, and they just stay like that for a long while.

Later, she will think, _Of course it couldn’t last_ , because nothing good ever does.


	14. Erik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me add a Content Warning here:  
> Victor is in this, being a giant creep, with sexually violent language and touching her against her will. There are also some minor allusions to Erik's backstory.

The lights start flickering, and Marie watches, confused, as suitcases jump, then snap up against the train’s ceiling, stuck there. Logan jumps to his feet, just as confused as her, and they watch, horrified, as the back of the carriage splits open like a tin can, as a man floats down, walking towards them.

Logan bristles, now that he has identified a threat, and he unsheathes his claws.

The man is still coming towards them, calm as you please, with an almost gentle smile on his face. “You must be Wolverine,” he says, and Logan starts forward with a snarl, only to come to a full stop as the man raises his hand. “That remarkable metal doesn’t run through your entire body, does it?” He raises his hand further, splays his fingers, and Logan gives a grunt of pain as his limbs follow the movement, as his feet leave the ground, and Marie is screaming.

“What the hell do you want with me,” Logan grinds out from between clenched teeth, and the other man chuckles.

“With you? My dear boy, whoever said I wanted you?”

Marie can tell the second understanding dawns on Logan, when he turns his head towards her, painfully, his eyes wide, and hers flicker from the man to Logan, and she can’t contain the little, “Oh,” when she, too, understands.

A flick of the man’s finger, and she watches, petrified, as Logan goes flying, through the doors of the carriage and out of view, and then she’s on her feet, running after him.

A prick at the back of her neck, like a wasp’s sting.

Then, darkness.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She comes to with a start, disoriented. Her nose twitches, and then she knows what woke her.

Victor.

He’s a mountain of a man, something that is even more apparent now that he’s crammed into the small space of the ship’s hold, for they are on a ship, she realises as the floor tilts, gently, this way and that. Her hands are bound in front of her, and the back of her neck is sore, but those things are the least of her problems.

Victor slouches, carelessly, atop a wooden crate, watching her. Hungrily. His smile widens when she looks at him, as her scent spikes with terror. “Hello, pretty girl.”

Marie swallows heavily, stomps on her fear. “Where are we?”

Now he smirks as he hops off the crate, surprisingly graceful for someone of his size. He walks over to her, a swagger in his step, and Marie feels slightly sick. “How about we call it the love boat,” he says with a leer, as he takes hold of the handcuffs, pulls her to her feet, as he runs his fingertips up her arm, and she shudders with revulsion.

“I’m bonded,” she makes herself say, knows it’s a weak argument with an Alpha like him, and of course he laughs.

“To the runt, huh?” He hooks his claws into the collar of her shirt, tugs it this way and that as he peers inside. “No mating bite. Can’t even do that right, can he?” And he slides the back of one claw up her throat, hooks it under her chin to make her look at him. His eyes are vaguely yellow, cat-like, and Marie recoils. “He can’t protect you, girly, why’d you wanna stay with a weak Alpha like that?”

He crowds into her space then, his other hand moving to the small of her back and pulling her closer, and tears spring up in her eyes as he noses her hair. Her stomach flips unpleasantly when he sighs. “Sweet, sweet Omega. You smelled so good, up in the cold, so hot and wet and needy. Just _begging_ for cock, weren’t you? Felt like you were gonna die if nobody fucked you.” He groans, then, pushes his knee between her thighs, and Marie sobs as she tries to push him away. It’s useless. She might as well try to push over a house, and his hand moves from her back down, until he can cup her ass, can pull her so the meat of his thigh presses against her. For a second, it feels good, and Marie hates herself. He chuckles. “If you survive this, I’m gonna make you mine, pretty girl. I’m gonna fuck you so full with my pups that you-”

“Victor.”

The voice is deceptively quiet, calm, which only makes it more threatening, and Victor’s mouth twists downward even as he rolls his eyes. He lets go of her, obviously unhappy with the interruption, but he _lets go_ and that’s all that matters, she thinks as she takes a few hasty steps back. The man from the train stands in the door way, a displeased twist to his mouth. Victor shrugs, half-heartedly. “She wasn’t complaining, was she?”

“You’re forgetting yourself.” The man meets her eyes then, just for a moment. “Rogue is our guest,” he says, before he looks away again, stepping to the side. “Leave us.”

Victor goes, petulant like a child that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and Marie falls to her knees, relieved despite the situation she is still in. The man watches him go for a moment, a sneer on his face, before he turns back to her, and his face softens. It’s disconcerting.

“My name is Erik,” he says as he walks into the room, leans against the crate Victor sat on earlier.

He scares her, but not nearly as much as Victor did. He’s an entirely different sort of danger. “And why should I care,” she spits at him, holds up her hands, the cuffs. “What do I care what the person who kidnapped me is called?”

Erik smiles, gently. “I like to think of myself as polite.”

Marie huffs a laugh at that. “Yeah, well. Failing spectacularly so far.” She shifts, gets her legs under her. “Why am I here?”

He looks at her for a long moment, clearly considering. Then, he says, “You, my dear, are in the unfortunate position of being the only one who can help me save mutantkind.”

Again, she has to laugh. It’s just too ridiculous. “Mutantkind? Seriously?”

“I’ve seen what humans do to those they fear, Rogue.” His left arm twitches, just a little, his hand bumping against his thigh, and his face goes blank. “And they are right to fear us.” His hand moves up, and she is tugged upwards by the cuffs, and she has to scramble to her feet as the metal digs into her wrists. Erik walks to the door, smiling softly. “Come along now, the future waits for us.”

And Marie has no choice but to follow, while she finds herself silently praying.


	15. Ellis Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Content Warning:  
> Mentions of Erik's experiences as a child

Erik leads her up, outside, and he keeps looking at her with something like melancholy in his gaze, and finally, as they’re nearing Ellis Island, her patience is worn thin.

“Logan will come. He’ll save me,” she says, with as much conviction as she can muster, and Erik just smiles sadly at her.

“He’s your Alpha, isn’t he?” She returns his look, angrily, and he nods. “Nothing like a new bond to drive an Alpha to foolishness.” He looks up, into the darkness, the night sky cloudy and with not a single star to be seen. “I thought my Alpha would save me when I was in trouble, that he would help me. That he would be on my side. But he wasn’t.”

Marie gapes at him, incredulous. “You’re an Omega?”

Another smile as he nods, once. “You of all people should know about hiding one’s gender, my dear.”

Her mind reels. Omegas aren’t like this, so bloodthirsty, so driven, not unless they have been so deeply betrayed that… “Who was your Alpha,” she hears herself ask, and Erik turns his head to look at her.

“You know who.”

And by God, she does. “The Professor,” she breathes, and he touches a finger to the tip of his nose.

“You’re a smart girl, Rogue.” His smile turns mournful. “A pity.”

Ice sinks into the pit of her stomach, and she looks towards the bow of the ship, at the looming shape of Lady Liberty before them, and she thinks of home, of all places. Of her parents, who were just trying their best.

Of Logan, his easy smile when he’s around her, his fearlessness when it comes to her skin.

She can’t die here, tonight. He’d be alone again.

Erik takes her to the very top of Lady Liberty, into the torch, where he shackles her to a machine, all while she’s trying to talk him out of it. She can tell he’s not listening, that he’s actively refusing to listen to anything she’s saying.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, finally, as he reaches for her, as she finds herself babbling, pleading with him, before he presses his palms to her cheeks, and then all she can hear is her own screaming as he pours into her. Her hands are pulled downward as his power ripples through her, and his memories flash before her eyes, the stench of burning flesh overwhelming her senses, and she can’t tell if it’s her hands or just in her head. She watches her – _his_ – hand, small and skinny, the hand of an underfed child, reaching for his mother, his father, feels his terror and desperation coursing through her and mixing with her own, and she feels sick to her stomach.

The rings of the machine start moving, and Erik stumbles away, looking more dead than alive. Lights flash around her, and she can _feel_ it, can feel the metal surrounding her, every bolt, every screw, and then… “Logan,” she whimpers, for she can feel him as well, the metal inside him so different from everything else, and then she sees him, fighting Victor on top of Lady Liberty’s head, and she starts crying with relief, even as it feels like her veins are on fire, because her Alpha is coming for her.

Her world goes dark then, with an eerie sense of calm.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She comes to suddenly, with a gasp, and the first thing she notices is a weight against her cheek, and then she realises it’s Logan. Logan, leaning against the pillar she was attached to earlier, twitching and bleeding from tears all over, and Marie bats his hand away with a scream.

That’s how the others find her, huddled over Logan, now flat on his back, his eyes rolled back in his head, and Ororo pulls her to her feet, tucks her into her side while Jean checks Logan’s vitals. Marie knows she babbling again, begging, _Please help him, save him, please please please_ , and Scott takes Ororo’s spot, puts his hand on the back of her neck and squeezes, tells her to calm down with just a little bit of Alpha command in his voice, and it helps. A little, at least, for Scott is safe, is family, enough so she can breathe and rein in the hysteria.

Jean uses her powers to move Logan into the jet, hooks him up to the emergency equipment, and Marie stares at the jumping line of the heart rate monitor, tears running down her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she says as she clutches his hand to her chest.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the mansion, and Marie can’t let go. Scott tries to steer her out of the med lab, but Jean shakes her head at him. “Let her stay. It’ll be good for him.”

In the end, Jean doesn’t do much, just makes sure he’s comfortable as she hooks him up to fluids and keeps an eye on his brain activity and heart rate. “He’ll be fine,” she tells Marie after a while, squeezing her shoulder encouragingly, and Marie wants to believe her.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing she knows is her face pressed into Logan’s stomach as she wakes to low voices. One of them is Logan, and her heart skips in her chest.

“She almost died. _You_ almost died, saving her.” Jean, managing to sound both relieved and accusing at the same time.

“Worth it,” Logan rasps, squeezes her hand where she’s still holding on to his, and she knows that he knows she’s awake.

Jean huffs a laugh, and Marie can hear her tapping away on her laptop for a moment. “Just… She’s been through a lot. God only knows what having that much of Magneto in her head will do to her.” A pause. “Be gentle with her, Logan. She’s going to need you.”

He chuckles, gently, so he doesn’t jostle her too much where she rests on his stomach, and squeezes her hand again. “Believe me, Jeannie,” he says, “the feeling’s mutual.”


	16. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are posting schedules? Never heard of her.
> 
> And another Content Warning for mentions of Erik's backstory.

Jean leaves a little while later to check on the Professor, and Marie drops her pretence of sleep the moment the door closes behind the beta. Logan is looking down at her, a smile tilting his mouth on one side, and Marie starts crying again.

“I thought I’d lose you,” she sobs, and Logan tugs her up, onto the bed and onto him, until she’s straddling him, and he pulls her against his chest, slides his fingers into her hair, over the back of her head and to her neck.

“Me too, darling.” A beat, then he says, “You weren’t breathing. I thought you were dead, and when I felt the pull, I thought, here, take it all, just live.” He kisses her crown then, and Marie curls her fingers into the sheets. “And you did. You came back to me.”

And Marie just holds on tighter, not trusting her voice. She wouldn’t even know how to put her feelings into words, so she lets him hold her, listening to his heartbeat, and for the first time in the last 24 hours, she doesn’t feel scared.

She’s surrounded by friends, is by her Alpha’s side, and no one can hurt her now.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jean allows Logan to leave the med lab later that day, and Marie takes him back to their room and makes him lie down again, which he does even though he grumbles about it. Marie goes into full on Omega mode, fluffing his pillow, bringing him something to eat and drink, and she doesn’t even notice she’s doing it until he smirks up at her with that look in his eyes. She turns beet red and all but runs into the bathroom with some dumb excuse.

She stares at herself in the mirror, and only then does she notice her hair. Somebody, probably Jean, pulled it away from her face, tied it back in a ponytail. The front of it has turned white, a stark contrast against the chestnut brown of the rest of it, and she touches it, disbelieving.

“Do you wanna keep it?” She looks over, and Logan is standing in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I… I don’t know. It’s...” She blinks, and for a second she sees Erik looking back at her from the mirror, and she jumps. Logan is by her side in an instant, steadying her with one hand on her cheek.

“You’re fine, Marie, you’re safe,” and she latches onto her name, reminds herself that that’s who she is, not Erik, not Logan, not any of the people in her head. She surges forward, up, kisses him, just for a moment, until he pulls back, gently holding her in place. “They’re not gonna hurt you again, sweetheart. I got you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next week is difficult. Logan is still weaker than he thinks he is, and Marie battles with the jumble of memories in her head. Her thoughts jump between pain in all her limbs, where she feels like she’s drowning, when all she can see is blood, to images of the camp, of a woman she knows is Erik’s mother, a coin on a table, and his rage bubbles to the surface in those moments, rattling the metal around her. Nothing but Logan’s hand on the back of her neck calms her in those moments, and she spends most of that week curled up in bed, watching dumb romantic comedies and trying to distract herself from the foreign thoughts.

The Professor wakes a few days after they have returned to the mansion, and slowly, things go back to normal. Erik – Magneto – is confined to a plastic prison, and for a fleeting moment, Marie considers going to see him when she hears that the Professor is going.

“No,” Logan says, as though he could read her thoughts, “no fucking way.”

And that is that.

Mystique, as she learns the shape shifter is called, is in the wind, as is Victor. That’s the only thing that really scares her, and when she tells Logan as much, in bed one night in the dark, he hugs her close, noses her throat.

“He’s never gonna touch you again, Marie. _Never._ ”

She wants to believe him. Wants to, desperately, but his reassurance can’t make Victor’s voice in her head shut up, can’t stop him from whispering all the things he wanted to do to her, and Marie buries her face against Logan’s neck and tries very hard to ignore him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And then.

“The Professor gave me this,” Logan says as he hands her a thin folder, a cautious look on his face. She opens the folder, looks at the pictures, at the map. Alkali Lake, it says, and she looks up at Logan, confused. Logan takes a deep breath, sits down on the bed. “He thinks that’s where...” He rubs his fingers along the knuckles of his other hand, almost absent-mindedly, and she understands.

“You wanna go there.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway. She looks at the map again, quickly calculates how long it takes to get there. “We’d need to replace the camper.”

He looks stunned for a moment, then he reaches for her. Marie closes the folder, places it on the bed beside him, and lets him pull her to stand between his knees. “You don’t have to come with me. I got no idea what I’m gonna find up there.” He winds an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, nuzzles her stomach. “It could be dangerous.”

She smiles softly, lets her fingers whisper over the back of his neck. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that being away from you is dangerous.”

Logan groans and lets himself fall back onto the mattress, taking her with him, and Marie squeaks in surprise. He rolls to the side, until she’s on her back, and then he leans down and kisses her, heatedly. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darling,” he says, before he slides his hand underneath her shirt, and Marie has to laugh.

It’s decided, then. They will go to Alkali Lake. Jean is not thrilled at the idea and neither is Scott, but they don’t give voice to their opinion except in a private conversation Marie has with them.

“We’re just concerned, Rogue,” Jean says, and Marie pulls her into a hug and thanks her. She knows Jean is telling the truth, and it means more to Marie than she can put into words.

Logan buys a camper, a much newer model than his old one, which had easily been older than Marie herself. He has some money squirrelled away, he tells her, from the cage fights, enough to live on comfortably for a while even with two people, and it feels like her heart swells in her chest.

“You don’t have to pay for me, I have some money,” she says, and Logan just slides a hand into her hair and tugs her close. Rests his forehead against hers for a moment, before he says, “Darlin’, let me. Please,” and there’s nothing she can say to that except, “Okay,” even as she realises she’s not only bonded to him, no, she’s falling head over heels in love with Logan.

The day they leave, she is only slightly surprised to find everyone waiting for them in the entrance hall. Jean and Scott, Ororo, the Professor, Kitty and Jubilee and Bobby, all come to say goodbye. Tears spring up in Marie’s eyes then, and even Logan cracks a smile as he shakes hands with Scott.

 _This is home_ , Marie thinks, _and it will be, no matter what_ , as she watches the mansion grow smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.


	17. Watch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go, my friends. This is the honeymoon part of the fic.

_It’s strange_ , Marie thinks to herself, as she watches Logan during the drive. It’s only been a little over a month that she has known him now, but it feels like so much longer. Maybe it’s because they have been through so much in so little time, maybe it’s the bond. She doesn’t know, and truth be told, she doesn’t much care, either.

All she knows is that she wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here, in this little mobile home, with the stars above them at night, and seemingly endless roads before them during the day, and with Logan holding her hand in his, his other on the steering wheel.

They take what she thinks of as the scenic route. Without longer stops, the drive would take them four days, maybe five, but Logan seems to not be in a hurry, even though she can tell he’s obviously keen to get there. They alternate between sleeping in the mobile and at motels, and Marie has to think of the map she had pinned to the wall of her room. If she didn’t know where they’re going, this could just be a road trip like any other, and she enjoys it, enjoys being the focus of his attention.

One day, they drive through a town that reminds her strongly of Laughlin City, just a couple of buildings huddled around a truck stop, and she can see how his eyes linger on the rear view mirror as they drive past it, and she gently pokes him in the ribs. “We can stop if you want to, you know.”

 _If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all_ , she thinks as she looks around the bar, later. The layout is different, but the people look startlingly similar to those in Laughlin City. She climbs onto a stool by the bar as Logan goes off to speak to the manager, and of course it doesn’t take long for some drunk fool to try and talk to her. The guy, tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and blue eyes, goes so far as to put his hand on her shoulder, and she gives him an icy look, calling Erik’s sense of superiority to the forefront for once. He gives a little grunt of annoyance before turning away, and Marie smirks into her drink when he passes Logan on his way back into the corner he came from. Logan’s nose twitches, and he grabs the guy, and before he knows what’s happening, Logan has him shoved against the wall, a hand at his throat. She can’t hear what Logan is saying, but the way the guy’s eyes flicker over to her tells her everything she needs to know.

When Logan reaches her, he takes her hand and pulls her off the stool and into a corner booth, tucking her into the seat by the wall and not so subtly taking the seat next to her instead of the one on the other side. Marie is grinning. “That was very impressive.”

He grunts, rubs his thumb over the edge of the table. “Guys in places like this, they never can keep their hands to themselves. Shoulda known better than bring you here.”

She feels bold all of a sudden, and she drops her hand under the table, slides it over his thigh, down the inside of it, and Logan stiffens in his seat. “Just gotta show them who’s in control, I guess.” He stares down at her, and she bats her eyelashes at him with a smile, over the top sweet and innocent, and his hand moves to her neck, holds her tightly.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, darlin’,” he growls, and a shiver runs down her back.

“Who says I can’t?” His eyes go dark, and she purrs, moves closer so she can rub her head against his shoulder. She looks up then, sees the drunk guy watching her from across the room, and she smirks at him. “We got an audience.”

She nods in the guy’s direction, and Logan follows her gaze. He seems to puff himself up slightly, and she has to suppress a snicker. _Alphas_ , she thinks, as she brings her hand higher up his thigh, lets the back of it graze against his cock, and he sucks in a breath. “ _Marie_ ,” he says, low and sharp, the warning clear in his voice as his grip on her neck tightens, just shy of being painful.

“Are you going to fight tonight,” she asks, and when he nods, she murmurs, “You know, when I saw you that first time, I wanted you, immediately.” He growls, and there’s a sudden rush of heat between her thighs. She doesn’t know where this boldness is coming from. She can be sassy, sure, but this… This is something else. “When I went into heat and you offered to help me, I considered it. Imagined what it would be like, to be bent over the table of your mobile, to be _fucked_ by you.” She has never talked to him this way, and she wonders if it’s the weird mix of personalities in her head, three headstrong men, experienced and confident with their sexuality.

Logan moves her, then, pulls her back by her neck so he can look at her. His eyes are pitch black, his teeth bared, and for a second she wonders if she’s gone too far. His voice is low, raw. “When I’m done here,” he says, and again she shivers, “I’m gonna expect you to wait for me in the trailer.” He slides his free hand between her thighs, rubs against her, hard, and she whimpers. “Without these,” he says as he tugs on her jacket, her shirt, before he cups her again, grinds his palm against her, and she gasps.

“Logan...” It’s a whine, low and urgent, and over his shoulder she can see the people closest to them shifting in their seats, can see their eyes flicker in their direction, as the scent of her arousal spreads around them. The guy from earlier is not very subtly palming himself through his jeans, and a thrill shoots through her as she meets his eyes.

A bell _ding_ s then, signalling that the fights are about to start, and Logan groans as he pulls her against his chest, burying his nose in her hair. “You gonna be a good girl while I’m gone?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she gasps as he rubs her one last time, before he kisses her heatedly. He slides out of the booth then, adjusts himself before he stalks off, and Marie feels sorry for whichever poor sod he’s going to face first today.

It takes her a long moment to get her breath back, and she sits there, pressing her thighs together as she watches Logan walk through the crowd, watches as he shrugs out of his jacket before he steps into the cage. She doesn’t miss the appreciative looks he gets, and something dark and possessive flares in her chest, which is kind of ridiculous, considering that she basically just involved a complete stranger in what went on between them.

Speaking of, she looks back over to where the guy was and finds him gone. A small part of her is disappointed, and isn’t that just baffling? Not that she has any idea what she would have done if he had still been there.

She picks up her drink and gets out of the booth – Logan didn’t tell her to stay put, after all – and makes her way closer to the cage. Logan isn’t inside yet, standing by the side, talking with the manager. The fight that’s going on is boring, typical Alpha posturing without skill or finesse, and she loses interest, watching the audience instead. Despite the lack of skill, people are enjoying themselves, egging the men in the cage on, hooting and hollering, and she has to admit it’s intoxicating.

There’s a hand on her hip then, from behind, and she stiffens. She takes a breath, and of course it’s the guy from before. A beta, she realises, and she very pointedly takes his hand and moves it off of her before she looks at him over her shoulder. “Can’t you take a hint?”

He chuckles, looking down at her. He’s not as tall as Logan but he still towers over her. “Which one are you talking about? The way you looked at me while your boyfriend was getting you off?” He raises his hand, slides his fingers through her white locks. “You like being watched, honey?”

“No,” she says, her voice surprisingly steady. “I don’t.”

He laughs then, steps closer, and Marie matches him, moving back. He grins. “Certainly didn’t look like it.” His voice drops lower as he leans down. “Looked like it got you pretty wet, to be honest.”

She sighs, takes another step back. “My Alpha’s not gonna be pleased by you bothering me,” she says, turning away from him. She startles when she sees Logan watching her across the room, a murderous look in his eyes, and her stomach drops. “You better go,” she tells him, her voice wavering.

There’s the crackle of a microphone being picked up, and then the manager can be heard over the din, “And now we are proud to present: _the Wolverine_!”

Drunk Guy flinches, his eyes flickering between her and Logan, who is now, very deliberately, pulling his shirt over his head as he climbs into the cage, still looking at her. “Your Alpha is the Wolverine,” he breathes, all the bravado gone right out of him, and when she nods, dumbly, he sucks in a breath. “Listen, I didn’t mean… I’m gonna leave you alone now, okay? I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

If it wasn’t so patently ridiculous, she would laugh. He disappears into the crowd, and Marie can’t tear her gaze away from Logan.

She has seen him fight before, both in a cage and against Victor, and this is somewhere in between. Back in Laughlin City, he clearly pulled his punches, only putting on enough of a show to keep the people entertained, without causing his opponents any serious harm.

Now, he barely holds back.

He doesn’t pretend, doesn’t let them get in a few licks first, which, she thinks, would probably be pointless anyway since people seem to know exactly who he is. Instead, he breaks bones. He drops people only after he is through with them, and Marie can do nothing but stare. She moves closer to the cage, and whenever she catches his eyes, she can feel his anger. _He’s jealous_ , the voice in her head that belongs to Logan whispers, and it’s probably true.

But then. Then he whirls past her in the cage, dodging a punch thrown at his face, and when she breathes in, she realises. _Oh. Oh, no._


	18. Rut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we are guys, the grand finale. I'll be out of town tomorrow so I'm posting this early.
> 
> I want to thank each and everyone of you who stuck with me over the last 6 months. I started this whole thing on a dare and never thought it would actually morph from a dumb little PWP into this, or that people would react so positively. This is my by far most subscribed to story, and I'm just... blown away by that. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.  
> Also, a billion thanks to my lovely, lovely SpaceCommander for encouraging me on this journey, and letting me bounce ideas off them. You're the best, sugar.
> 
> Little Content Warning, there's slightly dubious consent here, but that's A/B/O for ya, I guess.

She makes her way over to the manager, a thin, wiry man with a pronounced widow’s peak, who is currently watching with a mix of fascination and trepidation as Logan kicks his opponent’s legs out from under him, the guy going down hard.

“You gotta stop this,” she yells at him over the commotion, and he looks over at her blankly for a moment before he scoffs.

“Are you kidding? This is golden!”

She grabs his arm as he turns away from her, and he looks down at her hand in surprise. “He’s going into rut,” she hisses at him, certain that this is what’s happening, and she can see the moment the implication clicks into place in his brain.

“Oh shit,” he breathes, and Marie nods emphatically. “We gotta get him out of there.”

The bell _ding_ s then, as Logan’s latest opponent, or rather victim, hits the ground again with a strangled moan. His hand twitches weakly, and she can see he’s out cold. Logan takes a step back, his teeth bared, and Marie hurries to the door of the cage, pushing her way through. “Logan, we gotta go,” she says, wrenching open the door and holding out her hand to him.

 _He looks dazed_ , she thinks, and then, _Fuck, he’s in deep_ , as he takes a step in her direction, when she can see his hackles go up. “Please, Logan, come with me.” She picks up his shirt and jacket from where he placed them before the fight, and looks over at him again. He hasn’t moved further, his eyes flicking around the room, and she can tell he feels threatened by all the people watching. Her throat feels tight when she swallows, and then she breathes, “Please, Alpha.”

That spurs him into motion immediately, and she takes him by the hand and guides him away. The manager hurries after them, idiot that he is, yelling, “What about his winnings?” Marie rolls her eyes.

“He’s gonna be back for them,” she tosses over her shoulder as they reach the door. Once they’re outside, she relaxes, just a little. That proves to be a mistake.

Logan grabs her all of a sudden, whirls her around and against the wall of the truck stop, one hand at her throat. “ _Omega_ ,” he croons, nosing her jaw, and this close, she gets a face-full of pheromones.

“Please, Logan,” she gasps, “let’s go to the trailer, it’s right over there.” She points, hoping that he can still understand her meaning.

It seems he does, as he drops his hand from her throat to instead take hers, and then he’s more or less dragging her across the parking lot. She fumbles with his jacket, one-handed, digging around for the keys, but before she can pull them out, he has unsheathed one claw and sliced through the lock, wrenching open the door.

“Guess that works, too,” she mutters before he tugs her forward and shoves her inside.

She only has time to drop the shirt and jacket onto the table before Logan is on her, tugging hers off her shoulders. He leans into her space and brushes his lips over the shell of her ear, his hands coming around her from behind, cupping her breasts. “Omega,” he rumbles, all other words apparently forgotten, and when he kisses a line down her throat, much more gentle than she thought an Alpha in rut could be, she feels a twinge of desire in her belly.

“Logan, please, let me...”

He doesn’t even let her finish her sentence. Instead, he moves a hand to the back of her neck, the other to her hip, and pushes her forward with enough force that she has to bend over. He moves her forward, until her thighs hit the edge of the table, until he’s pressing her face into its surface, and she understands what he’s doing.

There’s on odd mixture of emotions swirling in her head when he steps back and pulls her pants down over her hips. On the one hand, she is absolutely terrified of what he could do to her in this state, something so close to the mindlessness of her own heats.

On the other hand she realises that she is _dripping_ already, and she thinks, with a sort of detached amusement, _Guess Jean was right, bodies are stupid_. She pushes her hair out of her face and looks back at Logan over her shoulder, and the look on his face makes her shudder. He drops to his knees behind her, and then she can feel his breath on her, before he leans forward and then her mind goes blank for eight glorious seconds, until her mutation kicks in.

Logan growls into her folds and she nearly goes cross-eyed with it, before she tries to wriggle away. “Logan, please, stop, I’ll hurt you, don’t...” He growls again, clearly unhappy, but he moves away, looks up at her with a frown. His mouth and chin glisten with her fluids, and she feels herself clench at the sight. He’s still frowning, indecision plain on his face, torn between what she is saying and what his body is telling him to do. She bites her lip, tries to figure out a way to get him through this without killing him. “You have to put on gloves, at least, please, Logan.” She feels her chin wobble as she tries to keep herself from crying. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He tilts his head to the side, tries to puzzle out her meaning, and she holds up her own hands. “See? Gloves, like these.” She pulls his jacket out from under her with a grunt, pulls out the gloves he shoved in the pocket earlier. “Please, you need to...”

Logan holds out a hand, and she decides to take the chance. She stands straight, careful not to make any sudden movements. He allows it, lets her take his hands, one after the other, and help him into the gloves. She feels at least a little safer, then, and she smiles at him.

His hand closes around her wrist then, like a vice, and he pulls so she tumbles into his lap, slow to react and hindered by the pants currently caught around her knees, and then his other hand is in her hair and he’s kissing her. Kissing her like his life depends on it, and in a way it does, she supposes. A rut can, theoretically, kill an Alpha, just like a heat can kill an Omega. _Nature is dumb that way_ , she thinks as she opens her mouth for him.

She has to pull back every few seconds, something he doesn’t like at all, but he makes no move to stop her. Finally, she sits back, catches his eye, looks for a reaction as she carefully pushes herself up to stand again. He’s watching her, and there’s a certain amount of distrust in his gaze, as though he expects her to run from him at any second. Instead, she kicks off her boots and pushes her pants the rest of the way down, and he gives a low purr of approval.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she tells him, as she takes his hand and tugs, softly, walks backwards towards the bed, and Logan gets to his feet and follows, a dark glint in his eyes.

Marie plucks a condom from the little shelf above the bed. “You need to let me put this on you.” She feels stupid, explaining this to him, when he’s almost beyond reason, as he’s looking at her uncomprehendingly, but he lets her unbutton his jeans. She can’t contain her whimper of distress when she sees that his knot is already more than half-way there, but she knows there’s no way around this. All she can hope for is that he’ll continue to be this way, that he won’t turn violent, and when she looks up at him to find him watching her, curiously, she thinks, maybe he really won’t.

She rolls the condom down his length, and as soon as she’s done with that, his hands go into her hair again and he’s kissing her, hard and hungrily. And that’s all the foreplay he’s capable of, apparently, as he grabs her and flips her around then, and before she can protest, he’s pushing into her.

There’s a whimper stuck in her throat as she stares at the pillows in front of her, her hands clawing at the sheets, her mouth falling open. She’s gotten more used to him lately, and he must be giving off loads of pheromones as she’s more ready than she thought she’d be, but it’s still… _Jesus Christ_ , she thinks, as he pulls back, his grip on her hips almost painful, and then he just starts, for lack of a better word, fucking her, hard and relentless, and she gives an unladylike grunt with every thrust of his hips.

Her legs are dangling over the edge of the bed, and it’s not the most comfortable she’s ever been, but when she wriggles a little, trying to find a better position, Logan grabs her neck, presses his thumb to a spot behind her ear, and she feels herself go slack.

Marie panics. She can’t help it, the way her body just stops obeying her is absolutely terrifying, and when she manages to open her mouth, the sound that comes out is one of pure Omegan distress.

Logan lets go of her immediately. He slides out of her, and has picked her up and turned over before she can properly draw a breath. There is a furrow of deep concern between his brows, even though she can tell he is still so deep in his rut that he doesn’t really understand what’s happening. He only knows that she’s not alright. She bursts into tears, and he leans forward, curls around her, protective and possessive, and she grabs a hold of his shirt with both hands and just cries for a moment, until the terror of being immobilised like that dissipates.

Logan noses against the line of her jaw, down her throat, to where her neck meets her shoulder, and she shudders, feels a rush of heat in her belly. She tugs on his shirt, until he looks up at her, and she cocks her head, licks her lips.

In answer, Logan slides a hand under her butt, lifts her slightly, and pushes himself back into her, at the same time that he kisses her, without finesse. She thinks, _I oughta be afraid_ , but now that she has seen that he’s not totally lost to her like this, there is a sense of calmness in her that makes it easier.

The angle is pretty much perfect like this, and she lets go, lets herself do nothing but feel, and it doesn’t take her all that long to realise that she feels… strange. Warm, warmer than just getting fucked warrants, and when Logan bends down, when he scents her throat and again croons, “ _Omega_ ,” with appreciation clear in his voice, she realises what’s happening.

 _Shit_.

Of all the places this could’ve happened, their trailer – with it’s broken lock, in the middle of a very public parking lot – is probably one of the worst. She half thinks to protest, try and get him to move off her, but when another wave of heat rolls through her, she knows it would be futile.

Time loses all meaning, then, and all she knows is this, the way he feels inside her, the need. At some point, she’s dimly aware of a voice, _his_ voice, close to her ear, “ _Fucking hell, Marie_ ,” and movement, of being alone for what seems like forever.

But he returns to her, and when finally, finally, her mind clears again and she looks out of the window, she realises they’re somewhere else now.

“I moved the trailer,” he says, next to her, and she drags her head around to look at him. He looks wrecked, his hair a mess, a tired look around his eyes, and she huffs a laugh when she thinks about what she must look like.

“Smart,” is all she can say in answer, too weak and exhausted to hold an actual conversation. Logan makes her drink something, sweet and citrusy, and she can feel herself drifting off again.

When Marie wakes, more lucid now and somewhat rested, she finds she’s clean and wearing her pyjamas, and she goes to find Logan, her legs shaking slightly with the effort of walking. They’re parked on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, and he’s leaning against the side of trailer, chewing on a cigar. Marie sits on the stairs, closing her eyes and just breathing the fresh air for a while.

“I’m sorry,” he says then, quietly, and she looks over at him. “I shouldn’t have...”

“Logan.” They’ve done this song and dance before, when he snapped at Bobby, and she’s not in the mood for it. She just shakes her head when he turns to look at her, shrugs her shoulders. “The timing was shit, but these things happen.”

He grinds his teeth for a moment, then he puts the cigar out against the side of the trailer, not looking at her. “Did I hurt you?”

There’s fear in his voice, just a trace, and she slides off the steps and to her feet. He lets her wind her arms around his waist, mirrors her, tucks her under his chin. Marie rests her cheek against his chest, listens to his heartbeat. “No,” she says into the space between them, and his hold on her tightens just a fraction.

He breathes, deeply, and she knows he doesn’t believe her, that he’s checking her scent to see if she’s lying. It would hurt if she didn’t know that distrust is in his nature after all he’s been through, and so she lets him, tilts her head so he can bend down and scent her throat, and she can feel the tension draining out of him.

She steps back after a while, out of his arms, and looks down the road, shading her eyes with her hand. “How much further is it?”

And just like that, things go back to normal, and nothing except the lingering scents of heat and rut and sex, and the fact that they have to tie the door closed with rope gives away what happened, and as Marie props her feet up on the dashboard, she thinks back to their first meeting, to the girl she was, and the one she became. Looks over at Logan, as he tugs her feet down off the dashboard and into his lap, and she laughs.

 _We’ll be alright_ , she thinks, as Logan steers the trailer back onto the interstate, northward.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fransisca Hall - Until It Hurts

Undress these beautiful lies  
Blind me with animal eyes  
Carve your heart into mine  
Carve your heart into mine

Brush me with venomous lips  
Tear me to passionate strips  
Stir up the beast inside  
Stir up the beast inside

Take me for all I'm worth  
Touch me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it  
Until my body burns  
Love me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it

Rush of your chemical light  
Your fingers cut like a knife  
Remind me I'm alive  
Remind me I'm alive

Taste of your poisonous tongue  
Cut of your razor sharp touch  
Ashes and dust to dust  
Ashes and dust to dust

Take me for all I'm worth  
Touch me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it  
Until my body burns  
Love me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)

Come closer, come closer, come closer, come closer inside (2x)

Take me for all I'm worth  
Touch me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it  
Until my body burns  
Love me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it

Take me for all I'm worth  
Touch me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it  
Until my body burns  
Love me until it hurts  
Until it hurts (3x)  
Until it

Come closer, come closer, come closer, come closer inside (2x)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when people dare me. I'm weak like that.
> 
> Thank you again to everyone who stuck with me, and these two, who commented or left kudos. It's been a ride.


End file.
